Howl
by akat24
Summary: Buffy was supposed to be retired, and yet here she was, traipsing through the English countryside, hot on the trail of a werewolf.
1. Crossed Wires

**Disclaimer:** I do not own BtVS or Harry Potter.

**Spoilers:** BtVS through Season 7. HP through Book 7, though not epilogue-compliant (I believe the term is EWE?).

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><p>If someone had told Buffy a few years ago that, when given the opportunity to walk away from slaying once and for all, she wouldn't, she would've seriously questioned their sanity. And yet here she was, traipsing through the English countryside, hot on the trail of a werewolf.<p>

Clearly, it was her own sanity that was in question.

She had known it the second she eavesdropped on that conversation about strange dog attacks in Devon – _while_ she was sitting in Trafalgar Square, cappuccino in hand, less than three weeks into her retirement, no less. The fact that she had had her bags packed and her ticket booked twenty minutes after that only confirmed it.

At least, that was what she had tried to tell herself. It was easier than admitting anything else.

If only her insanity defense didn't have so many gaping holes in it.

For while she could rationalize away the rush of adrenaline she had felt when she realized that what the locals were calling a 'yeth hound' was actually a werewolf, it was a lot harder to do so the second time around, when she had discovered a pattern to the werewolf's movements.

Which meant that it was next to impossible to explain the way she felt now, as she stood on the edges of the forest with nothing but a tranquilizer gun, a little silver, and her own skill, yet somehow feeling more alive than she had in ages.

Buffy shifted uncomfortably on her feet, not liking the direction her thoughts were headed at all. Thankfully, she was spared from any unwanted epiphanies a second later.

There was a flicker of a shadow deep within the trees, one that was distinctly human shaped, one that made her senses stand on end – and one that was moving away from her.

Buffy plunged into the woods in pursuit without a second thought, moving as quickly as she could in an effort to catch up. It soon became painfully apparent, however, that it was a losing battle. He was moving really fast, and that was on top of the good lead he already had. After a few minutes, she couldn't even catch glimpses of his shadow. The only thing she had to go on was the faint sounds he made as he ran away.

Still, with single-minded determination, she picked up her pace – and almost fell face first into a surprisingly sizable stream as a result.

Barely stifling a yelp, Buffy quickly backpedaled as she eyed the unexpected obstacle; or more specifically, the steep, muddy bank and thirty feet of water that stood between her and the other side.

Then she sighed in resignation, slung her tranquilizer gun over her back – careful not to tangle it in her necklace – and quickly, if a bit messily, navigated her way down the bank.

She supposed it was a little risky just taking a tranquilizer gun, but she was really reluctant to pull out the heavy artillery until she knew the werewolf was a real threat. While she obviously didn't condone the killing of poor, innocent sheep, it just didn't rate. It was the same reason why she hadn't contacted the others for help. Well, that and the fact that she was taking an indefinite break from them.

But that was another subject she didn't want to think about, so she quickly locked those thoughts away with the other unwanted ones and concentrated instead on making her way across the water, leaping from rock to rock until she made it to the other side.

Once there, she stopped for a moment to take stock of the situation. The good news was that although the hem of her leather pants had taken a beating, she hadn't fallen in. The bad news was that she couldn't even hear the werewolf anymore.

Buffy hesitated. She could try to chase after him, but it was risky. He was heading deeper into the woods, and a junior ranger she was not. On the other hand, it had taken her three days just to catch a glimpse of him. Although the werewolf had only attacked livestock so far, the full moon was next week. She needed to catch him well before that time, before something was done that couldn't be _un_done.

That decided it. Buffy quickly set off further into the woods.

She traveled another whole mile before she heard it; a noise that didn't belong in the forest, one that made all the other noises suddenly quiet.

It was him. And he was practically sprinting right toward her. Whether it was because he had figured out she was following him, or she had unknowingly gotten turned around, she didn't know.

What she _did_ know was that she had to take cover, and quick.

After a hasty assessment of her options, Buffy ducked behind some dense shrubbery; although a tree was obviously more solid, the bushes would provide much better coverage for both her and more importantly, the barrel of her gun, which was almost invisible as it poked out through the leaves.

Then she waited.

At first, she didn't sense anything amiss. She just continued to scan the perimeter, waiting for him to appear. Then the sounds got closer and closer, but still, she didn't see anything.

That's when she knew something was wrong.

Suddenly tense, Buffy squinted so hard into the darkness she thought her eyes might fall out. Still, it took a whole minute before she finally saw the faintest shadow of a person less than fifty feet away – right before it disappeared.

Buffy would have been worried, except that in that glimpse, she also noticed that he was crossing in front of her instead of coming at her, as if he had no idea she was there.

Knowing better than to question her luck, she immediately took aim, a little bit ahead of the werewolf to take into account his speed and trajectory. Then she pulled the trigger.

Unfortunately, his own senses finally seemed to kick in just then. Just as the dart left the gun, Buffy heard him stop in his tracks and curse. Then she saw the slightest flutter in the air, as if he had spun around in her direction.

Buffy watched in irritation as the dart passed harmlessly through some bushes. She couldn't sulk about it too much, though; she had to concentrate on the jet of orange light that suddenly appeared from his direction, heading straight for her.

Though Buffy scrambled to her feet, she knew she wasn't going to get out of the way in time. Her only option was to hold the tranq gun in front of her as a makeshift shield.

It was a good thing she did. As soon as the orange light hit the gun, it blasted into smithereens, leaving her clutching nothing more than the ruined barrel as she flew backward from the impact.

Buffy twisted as she hit the ground, using the momentum to roll to her feet, just as another jet of light – this one red in color – raced toward her.

This time, she was able to dive behind the closest tree. As she did, she heard her attacker shout.

"What's the matter, Greyback? Too afraid to come out and fight like a wizard, you bloody bastard!"

Buffy frowned. He thought she was someone named Greyback? Who the heck was that? And just how many people were tromping around the forest in the dead of night?

Then the second half of his sentence sunk in and she had to bite back a groan. He was a wizard – for if she remembered correctly, those who didn't use wands for magic were called warlocks, while those who did were called wizards (and no, she would never tell Giles that she had actually listened to boring lecture on the different kinds of magic users). From the way his magic came at her, it made sense, too.

Buffy's frown grew deeper. Was this even the guy she was looking for, or did she just make a colossal mistake? And yet she could've sworn he had sensed her presence right as she fired the dart at him. Was that because he was a werewolf or because he was a wizard? And did one necessarily cancel out the other?

Buffy shook her head. There were too many unanswered questions, and they were distracting her. There was someone out there, someone who was invisible and who currently had a long-range advantage on her, which meant she needed to take away his wand. She could worry about the rest after that.

She quickly formulated a plan. It was a little risky, but she didn't have much choice given the situation. Also, she was kind of curious to see what he would do once he realized that she wasn't this 'Greyback'.

Taking a deep breath, Buffy closed her eyes and listened as best she could to pinpoint where he was. He was moving again, but very slowly, and very cautiously. That was fine with her.

Buffy snapped her eyes open and darted from her tree to another one about twenty feet away.

She heard him start to shout again, some spell most likely. It died in his throat the second he caught sight of her, though.

It didn't escape her notice that no jets of light came her way, either.

"Who the fuck are you?" he exclaimed in a very masculine, very British, very surprised voice, just as she made it to the safety of the trunk.

"I could ask you the same question, Mr. Wizard," she shot back.

He made another sound of surprise at this, and Buffy seized her opportunity. She stepped out from her hiding spot and rushed him, dodging behind trees and shrubs to help provide cover as she ran.

She heard him swear again. Then, after a noticeable pause, he sent another jet of light her way.

That was fine with her. Now she knew exactly where he _and_ his wand were.

Easily ducking his attack, Buffy drew her arm back and launched the broken barrel of the tranquilizer gun at him, putting more emphasis on accuracy than on force. Of course, that didn't mean he wasn't going to have one heck of a bruise in the morning.

Sure enough, she heard his yelp of pain a second later, followed by the sight of his wand flying backward through the air.

And then suddenly she could see him.

He was young, probably just a few years older than her; tall, too, and totally rocking the rock star vibe with his long red hair and earring, even as he cradled his arm in obvious pain.

He also had a very distinct set of scars going down the side of his face, one that looked like they were made by claws.

Buffy narrowed her eyes and ran even faster.

It was almost comical the way his eyes widened and his jaw dropped. And when he put his hands up in a gesture of surrender, she almost felt bad. 'Almost' being key.

"Bloody hell, woman! Will you just—"

His words were abruptly cut off as Buffy put her shoulder down and did her best impression of... well, some famous football player tackling another football player.

As soon as they hit the ground, Buffy was already scrambling to her feet, racing for his wand. Not that she needed to rush. While she hadn't hit him nearly as hard as she could have – again – it was enough to knock the wind out of him.

As she watched him lie there gasping for breath, Buffy leaned against a tree, absently twirling the wand between her fingers like a baton. She began thinking of ways she could ask him if he was a werewolf – without being too obvious or give away too much, just in case he wasn't the one she was looking for.

Unfortunately, the guy was tough. He started to push himself to his feet less than a minute later. At that point, the best Buffy had come up with was, 'hey, don't you hate it when you go to sleep and wake up with wool in your teeth'?

Yep, she sucked at this kind of thing, always had and probably always would.

Deciding that actions spoke louder than words, she stopped spinning the wand and quickly undid the clasp of her necklace – her _silver_ crucifix. Then, just as the guy finally straightened up, she tossed it to him.

"Heads up!"

Instinctively, he caught it, his eyebrows immediately drawing together in confusion as he stared at the object in his hand. Then he looked up at her, her necklace gripped so tightly in his fist, his knuckles had gone white.

She held her breath and waited, searching for any signs of pain or even just acknowledgement. What she saw was a whole lot of offended with a healthy dose of anger.

"You're looking for him," he said stiffly.

"Huh?" Buffy replied, momentarily thrown off by his response. Then it hit her. "Do you mean 'Greyback'? Is _he_ a werewolf?"

For some reason, that made his face turn red, so red it almost matched his hair. "Is he a— Who is—" he sputtered angrily. "Really, you Yanks are unbelievable. I know the lot of you are terribly disorganized _at best_ – which is why none of you lifted a finger to help us during the last war – but honestly! Don't you think it's at least good to sense to know You-Know-Who's most ardent Death Eaters, particularly those who evaded capture after the Battle of Hogwarts?"

Then he let out another string of curses, one that would have even made Spike blush.

Buffy frowned. "What's with all the swearing? Do you kiss your mother with that mouth?"

That stopped him in his tracks. "Out of everything I just said, _that's_ what you choose to focus on? My cursing?"

Buffy shrugged. "It's the only part I understood. Seriously, what do warts have to do with a war? Is it a British thing or a Wizard thing?"

"A—" he said with a frown. Then his face paled, which was pretty miraculous considering how red it was just a second ago. "You're a Muggle."

"I am not," she said hotly. "Wait, what's a 'Muggle'?"

But he wasn't listening. He was too busy pacing back and forth in what looked like an impressive panic attack.

"Shite! You're a Muggle! But... how? You obviously know about us – and werewolves, I might add – and you saw through my Disillusionment Charm, so I just thought..." he muttered to himself. "I'll be sanctioned for this... or worse. They'll lock me up in St. Mungo's. They already think I'm a bit of a lunatic as of late—"

"Gee, I don't know why," Buffy interjected.

She received a dirty look in return.

"Well, you're mental, too, if you think you can go after him by yourself," he said, his voice so annoyingly arrogant, she felt the urge to stick her tongue at him.

Instead, she just gave him her brightest smile. "I guess I'll see you in St. Muddo's then."

"Mungo's," he corrected before he caught himself.

She just shrugged. "If you say so," she said. She pushed herself off the tree and turned around to leave.

"You can't leave with my wand!" he exclaimed, and she could hear the panic in his voice.

Buffy turned back around. "Right," she said sarcastically. "I'll just give you your weapon back. You know, the one you attacked me with just a few minutes ago."

"Only because you attacked me first," he pointed out.

"Well, yeah, but that's beside the point," she retorted.

He frowned. "Why?"

She scowled right back and put her hands on her hips for good measure. "Because I said so."

"Because you— oh, never mind," he said, obviously exasperated as he ran a hand over his face. Then he peeked up at her, a hopeful look on his face. "What if I promise I won't use it against you?"

Buffy snorted before she could stop herself. "Because no one's ever broken a promise before."

This made him throw his hands up in frustration. "Believe me, you do not want anyone to find you in possession of a wand. The authorities take that kind of thing quite seriously."

He seemed really sincere and _really_ worried. And yet, all Buffy could think was that they had 'authorities'. Giles hadn't mentioned _that_ (or had he?).

Either way, she was dying to ask about it, but she resisted. Instead she said, "First tell me who Greyback is."

He didn't answer; he just crossed his arms over his chest and glared at her. She knew that look very well, though usually Dawn was the one giving it.

Buffy rolled her eyes. She didn't have time for this.

"Whatever," she said, waving her hand dismissively. "At least I have a name now. That's more than I had ten minutes ago."

Still, she didn't make an effort to leave, unsure what she should do about his wand. Call her jaded, but she had some serious trust issues lately. Handing it back to him seemed stupid. On the other hand, she had no use for it, and he really did seem serious about causing trouble if she took it. Heck, if it wasn't for the aforementioned trust issues, she might have even considered working together, since it seemed like they were on the same side...

Buffy sighed. "Fine, you can your wand back. Then we'll part ways and pretend this never happened."

The relief on his face was visible. "Fine by me."

Very slowly, she walked toward him. When she was about two feet away, she stopped and extended the wand out to him with one hand. As he took it from her, she socked him in the jaw with the other.

He crumbled to the ground in an unconscious heap.

This time, Buffy really did feel bad, but hey, she had a werewolf to find.

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><p>AN: Next up, Bill's POV!


	2. Howl

Bill Weasley was not having a good day. For that matter, he wasn't having a good week or month or year. In fact, life had been pretty bloody awful for longer than he cared to admit. Yet it should have been the happiest time of his life.

You-Know-Who had long been defeated, his family was finally finding some normalcy, along with the rest of the Wizarding World, and Bill himself had had everything he wanted.

Then Fleur had gone and left him.

He wanted to be angry with her, and, even though quite some time had passed since she left, perhaps part of him still was. Discovering that she wanted children - just not with him, due to his 'condition' - had definitely left its mark.

In end, however, he couldn't blame her. It wasn't her fault that there was something inside him that clawed to get out, something that made him darker, more _animalistic_ than the man she had fallen in love with.

Yes, Bill cursed the day Fenrir Greyback had mauled him, not quite turning him into a werewolf but forever changing him nonetheless.

Oh, it had all started off well and good. They'd all had a good laugh about his craving for rare steak in the beginning. But then additional changes had come, ones that weren't nearly as humorous; the way his senses had sharpened, creating more than a few embarrassing situations until he realized what was happening, and even worse, the way his behavior had changed, where Bill suddenly found himself acting more aggressively, more moodily, especially before a full moon.

He had tried to repress it all as best he could, but Fleur simply couldn't take it anymore.

After she had left, he had drawn inward, isolating himself from friends and family, leaving Shell Cottage only for work. He had done a fair job of it, too, until two weeks ago when he had received an owl with nothing but a bit of wool wrapped in parchment, which itself was blank except for the word 'Woolacombe' written on it.

At first, Bill had thought George was having a bit of fun, particularly when both items had burst into flames soon after he had opened them. When he realized that wasn't the case, he immediately put in for an extended holiday from Gringotts and went to the seaside town to investigate.

That was when he had learned about the wild dog attacks, and in that moment, he _knew_.

Greyback was alive, and he wanted Bill to know it.

They had never found the blasted wolf's body after the Battle of Hogwarts. Bill had thought nothing of it at the time; many witches and wizards had been lost and never recovered, and there were witnesses who had seen the Death Eater fall. As he stood in Woolacombe, however, he knew differently.

Bill had immediately notified the Ministry, of course, but after investigating his claim and finding absolutely no trace of magic in Woolacombe, they had politely informed him that Greyback was most certainly dead and to please stop making inquiries to the contrary, as it could create an unnecessary panic.

Bill's family hadn't believed him, either, though no one had said it outright. He could see it in their eyes; they thought he was obsessed with a bogeyman he could never catch as a way to cope with his own problems.

Even Bill had to admit, it all sounded far-fetched. The attacks on livestock were out of character for Greyback, and his only other evidence had literally gone up in flames. Still, he knew he was right, so he continued to search on his own.

Tonight was the closest he had gotten. Tonight, for the first time, he had picked up Greyback's scent.

It was the reason why he had raced half-mad through the forest. Unfortunately, he hadn't counted on running smack into some blonde bird. Or _her_running into him.

Bill grimaced as he rubbed his sore ribs.

Merlin, she had been strong, surprisingly so for someone so small. A right pain in the arse, too.

And now he had to take time from his pursuit of Greyback and go after her instead.

Bill quickly got to his feet and scooped up his wand, which he was relieved to find lying close by. His body groaned in protest at the sudden movement, but he simply ignored it. He wasn't sure how much time had passed since she had coldcocked him; what he did know was that he needed to do damage control before it was too late.

Of course, to do that, he had to find her find first.

Magic was obviously out of the question, as he had nothing he could use to locate her, not even her name. That left him only one option.

Closing his eyes, Bill breathed in deeply, trying to pick out her scent amongst all the others in the forest. He had repressed this part of himself for too long, however, and he couldn't find it, not right away.

Bill felt his temper begin to rise, but he simply pushed it down and tried harder.

After a few long minutes, he finally found it. Feeling pleased with himself, he set off on the girl's trail. Despite the fact that he was severely out of practice - and that it felt a little too much like hunting for his own comfort - he managed to follow her scent quite successfully until he reached a small clearing. Here, her scent went in two different directions.

Momentarily thrown, Bill came to a stop as he tried to figure out what it meant.

"You _are_ a werewolf."

Bill whirled around toward the voice, his wand at the ready. It was the girl, leaning against a tree not twenty feet away.

"What? No!" he exclaimed.

"Right," she said slowly. "So you weren't just scenting me then."

Bill noticed the way she eyed his scars as she spoke, and he felt himself flush with embarrassment and anger.

"I was marked by a werewolf. That doesn't mean I am one. I will admit, however, that I may have developed some of their abilities."

He tried to leave the bitterness out, but by the look on her face, he had failed quite spectacularly. Her demeanor instantly changed.

"Why all the self-loathing?" she asked curiously. "Maybe it's not ideal, but it could be a lot worse. I mean, you're already a wizard. I'd think it would be no big."

Bill's lips curled up in a sneer. "Right. Because being shunned by society is bloody fantastic," he replied. "Because _you're_ looking for Greyback to invite him for some tea."

That seemed to irritate her.

"As long as I know a werewolf isn't going to kill and maim innocent people, we're good. And for your information, one of my friends is a werewolf, so don't you get all judgy on me."

Bill raised his eyebrows at that. "'Judgy'? Is that an American thing or a Muggle thing?" he asked, purposefully echoing her words earlier that evening.

She crossed her arms over her chest defensively. "It's a word. And while we're on the topic, what is a Muggle anyway?"

Bill hesitated, weighing his options.

He could've tried to Obliviate her right then and there. He had seen how fast she moved, though, and he couldn't run the risk that she would escape again. And while she seemed relaxed at the moment, he suspected otherwise; and now she had the added advantage of a tree for quick cover.

No, his best bet would be to stun her first. That spell took considerably less finesse and precision, allowing him to move as quickly as he could without the fear of permanently damaging her memory in his haste. To do that, however, he would need to get her guard down a little.

While, he was reluctant to share any part of the Wizarding world with her, for obvious reasons, answering her question might give him the opportunity he was looking for. Besides, if he were successful, he could tell her the entire history of magic and she wouldn't remember a thing.

His mind made up, he nodded in acquiescence. "Muggle is our word for a non-magic person."

For some reason, that made her laugh. "Really? 'Muggle' is the best you can come up with? That doesn't sound very PC to me. Not like, oh say, magically challenged or persons with magical disabilities or hey, maybe even non-magically gifted."

Bill shook his head, though his lips twitched with humor despite himself. "Are you always this maddening?"

"So they tell me," she said, suddenly quite solemn, though he could still see the laughter dancing in her eyes. "So, why were you following me?"

The shift in topics was startling. He thought she had done it on purpose, to catch him off guard. It almost worked, too. Bill had certainly felt off-balance the entire night. Thankfully, though, his head was on a bit straighter now. It also didn't hurt that he had years of experience dealing with his mum and the tactics she used to get information out of him.

The trick wasn't in coming up with a fantastic lie. In fact, he always told the truth; the trick was in deciding which part of it to tell.

"To stop you from going after Greyback. He'll tear you to shreds," he said honestly.

Though it looked as though she believed his sincerity, she didn't seem to take his warning very seriously. "Well, you can't, either."

Bill frowned. "Oh, really?"

She rolled her eyes. "Sure, you may be big with the magic, but your instincts suck," she said frankly. "If Greyback is as big and bad as you're implying, you don't stand a chance against him out here on his own turf. I mean, you couldn't even beat me."

From the way she batted her eyelashes at him, Bill got the distinct impression she was baiting him, or maybe testing him. For the first time that evening, however, he used his head and ignored it. Instead, he let the old Bill Weasley take control - the one who could engage a woman in conversation without antagonizing her.

"Well, that's because it's just bad manners to hit a girl, let alone beat her into a bloody pulp, even if she has no such reservations," he pointed out good-naturedly.

She grinned. "What can I say? I'm a hit first, ask questions later kind of girl."

He winced, a hand touching his bruised jaw. "I noticed. Apparently, you also have no qualms leaving me unconscious and defenseless in the middle of the woods with a werewolf on the loose."

"Yeah, I'm sorry about that," she said, fidgeting uncomfortably and moving away from the tree in the process.

He seized his opportunity.

"I'm sorry, too."

She cocked her head to the side. "For what?"

"This," Bill said. "_Stupefy._"

She gave a start, but before she could move out of the way, the spell hit her square in the chest.

The effect was almost instantaneous. She was on the ground in an unconscious heap a moment later.

Bill sighed as he walked over to her.

"I really am sorry," he murmured. Then he pointed his wand at her. "_Oblivi-_"

Before he could finish the spell, her eyes snapped open. At the same time, her legs swung out, knocking into his and sending him flying onto his backside. Then, before he could fully comprehend what was happening, she was on top of him, using her legs to pin his arms to his sides while her arm went to his neck in a decidedly less than friendly manner. The look she gave him was rather hostile and, dare he say, hurt?

Flustered, Bill tried to throw her off, but she was immovable. It was rather embarrassing. Not to mention utterly mystifying.

Modesty aside, he knew he packed a wallop as far as stunning spells went. That Stupefy should've knocked her out cold. And yet she had not only recovered from it in record time but was now holding him down like he was a helpless Flobberworm. He knew from their earlier run-in that she was strong, but this was unnatural.

"Are you part troll or something?" he asked, blurting out the first thing that popped into his mind.

It did not go over well.

"Troll? TROLL? You think I'm a troll?" she exclaimed, obviously offended. Then she leaned toward him and pressed a little harder on his neck. "Give me one reason why I shouldn't finish what I started."

Bill, unfortunately, had nothing. Still, seeing as he didn't fancy getting pummeled into unconsciousness again, he had to give it a go.

"Because I was trying to protect you?" he offered. "I was just going to erase your memory of me and of Greyback."

She blinked, taken aback by his response. "That's almost... noble. If you're telling the truth, and if, you know, you hadn't lied to me and attacked me, all so you could violate my mind."

Bill cringed. It sounded pretty awful when she worded it that way. "You're not going to hit me again, are you?" he asked.

"Do I need to?"

He quickly shook his head. "No," he stated firmly. Then because he was deep in it already, he added a little cheekily, "Of course, I didn't think you needed to the first two times, either."

For a moment, the sides of her mouth twitched, as if she were going to smile. It quickly faded, however, and her brows knitted together in irritation.

Bill closed his eyes, fully expecting to get knocked into unconsciousness once again. To his immense surprise, he felt her weight lift off of him. When he opened his eyes, he found himself staring into empty space.

Slightly confused, he picked up his head and saw her standing a few feet away, his wand once again in her possession. Though she kept her eye on him as he got to his feet, she didn't appear to be angry anymore. If anything, she looked conflicted.

"Who are you?" he asked, unable to help himself.

That seemed to snap her out of it. "Oh come on. You honestly don't think I'm going to answer that, do you?"

It was a fair point. Still, he wasn't going to give up. He would figure it out on his own if he had to; he hadn't been Head Boy for nothing.

He quickly began cataloging everything he had learned about her in their two brief encounters; her appearance, her silver crucifix, her unbelievable strength and agility, her insane desire to track a werewolf, her apparent knowledge about Wizards coupled with her complete ignorance on the finer details, her ability to withstand a stunning spell as if it was nothing...

"You're a Vampire Slayer."

Her eyebrows shot up in surprise. "And a cookie for the wizard," she said grudgingly.

Bill was anything but pleased, however. Perhaps his male pride had been restored, but this was much worse than any ridicule he would have suffered at the hands of his brothers, had they ever discovered that he had gotten his arse kicked by a girl who weighed less than seven stone. He had violated a very old, very strict accord, one which forbade wizards from performing magic of any kind on slayers.

Bill bit back a groan. He had really made mess of this one. He needed to fix this, and quick.

"For what it's worth, I won't try to stop you anymore, though I still think you're mad. Now that I know who you are, I will also tell you that Greyback is a wizard, a cruel and ruthless one who delights in torturing people, whether they are a man, woman, or child."

The Vampire Slayer winced at this, her arm absently rubbing the spot his spell had hit her. It was the only indication that being Stupefyed might have affected her more than she had let on. Perhaps realizing what she was doing, she dropped her hand down a moment later.

"Good to know," she said. After a pause, she added, "Thanks."

Then, to Bill's chagrin, she began walking backward - with his wand. Since he was hardly in a position to argue - in fact, that would probably only make the situation worse - he simply watched.

At first, he thought that maybe she meant to keep it this time. Then he noticed the way she eyed it with immense distrust, and for one brief, albeit delusional, moment, he thought that she might leave it on a rock or throw it into the woods so that he could retrieve once she had gone her merry way.

It wasn't until she reached the edge of the clearing that he realized her intention.

"NO!" he shouted.

But it was too late. With one clean motion, she snapped his wand in half.

Bill stared at her, frozen in place with shock. He felt like he had been Petrified. His wand was… broken.

"Just to let you know, the standard disclaimers still apply, only this time, if you try to use magic on me again, I'll do more than just turn your _wand_ into kindling. Understood?" she said.

Then she tossed the remnants of his wand toward him and turned, breaking out in the opposite direction in a sprint - though not before giving him one last smirk over her shoulder.

Bill flushed with anger, but he didn't dare move. He was too afraid; not of her, though clearly she was a force to be reckoned with, and he'd be only too glad never to be on the receiving end of her fist again.

He was afraid of what he would do if he followed; for she made him want to forget the fact that he was sorely in need of Healer so he could chase after her.

She made him want to answer the challenge she had issued, despite being obviously outmatched.

She made him want to howl.


	3. The Long and Winding Road

Buffy stared at the sprawling manor before her.

It was a gorgeous place, the kind that belonged in a four page spread of _Town & Country_, from its impressive stone facade down to the hanging ivy that clung to the walls in just the right place; and that was only the main building. The grounds themselves were just as jaw-dropping. She could almost picture people playing lawn games on the well-manicured grass, right before they retired for some tea under the large willow trees that dotted the property. Well, if the inhabitants of the house weren't a coven of witches anyway.

Buffy giggled at the thought of the coven's leader, a dour witch by the name of Nora, doing something as mundane as playing croquet, or better yet, lawn darts. It was a nervous laughter, though, and not because Nora would probably turn Buffy into an ant if she knew she was laughing at her expense.

No, the butterflies were there for another reason entirely.

It was ridiculous, if Buffy thought about it. She had faced the First Evil. One little conversation should not have scared her. And yet, as she knocked on the heavy oak door, she couldn't stop fidgeting.

A minute later, when the door creaked open and Buffy found herself standing before the head of the coven herself, she had to fight the fleeting urge to run.

"Ms. Summers, what a pleasant surprise," Nora said, in a voice that sounded like it was neither pleased nor surprised.

Buffy took a deep breath before giving the witch her brightest smile. "Hi, I'm sorry to bother-"

"Follow me," Nora cut in.

Then without waiting to see Buffy's reaction, she turned on her heel and began walking back inside the house, her heels clacking loudly on the marble floors.

Buffy hesitated for a split second before she hurried after the woman, her own boots quickly adding to Nora's staccato beat.

Soon, she found herself in the middle of a confusing maze of corridors. Though she occasionally glanced at Nora, she didn't say a word, both because the head witch really didn't seem in the mood for small talk and because Buffy didn't know what to say. She simply walked, content to listen to nothing but the almost hypnotic rhythm of their footsteps as they made their way through hallway after hallway.

Finally, after what seemed like forever, Nora pushed open another large door, one that led outside to a covered walkway, and stopped.

"She's out in the garden. The path at the end of the portico will take you there."

Buffy nodded. "Thank you."

Then Nora was gone, and Buffy was on her own.

Suddenly, the butterflies were back, and by the feel of it, they had learned how to do the Mexican hat dance somewhere along the way.

There was no turning back now, though, so Buffy stepped onto the walkway and followed it to the end. There, just like Nora said, she found a pathway. It brought her right to the 'garden', though to her it looked more like a bunch of wildflowers; granted, more wildflowers than the eye could see, forming a wall so high she couldn't see inside it, but a bunch of flowers nonetheless.

Buffy stared at the sea of colorful blossoms for a moment. Then she took a deep breath and waded in.

She found her a few seconds later, sitting close to a patch of heather, eyes closed and completely unaware of Buffy.

Buffy took the opportunity to study her. She looked better than she had a few weeks ago, when they had first arrived here. Of course, anything would have been an improvement.

Knowing that she had stalled long enough - and feeling borderline creepy for staring - Buffy cleared her throat.

"Willow."

Her time here definitely hadn't affected her Sunnydale-honed reflexes. Though Willow's eyes snapped open in surprise, she was on her feet in two seconds flat. She didn't make any move after that, though, and neither did Buffy. They just stood there looking at each other, both unsure what to do.

"And here I was, worried this would be awkward or something," Buffy quipped in an effort to cover her own nervousness.

Willow blinked at her for a moment. Then she laughed and threw her arms around Buffy in a giant bear hug so quickly, Buffy barely had time to brace herself.

"It's so good to see you, Buffy!" she exclaimed. Then, just as abruptly, she pulled away, a frown on her face. "Hey, wait. You're supposed to be in France right now. You know, letting some French hottie woo you with croissants and wine."

Buffy gave her a crooked smile. "Croissants and wine? Am I getting wooed, or just drunk and fat?" she joked.

Willow just arched her eyebrow, letting Buffy know that her attempt to divert her focus from the question failed. Miserably.

Buffy tried again.

"I was worried about you," she said, which was totally true. Between the red hair, the werewolf talk, and the magic flying around, how could she not think about Willow and worry about her, especially since she was close by?

Though Willow smiled at this, she still said nothing and just waited.

Buffy suddenly became very interested in her feet. She knew there was no escape, though.

"I, uh, got... sidetracked," she finally mumbled. "Werewolf."

"You're slaying again?!"

Buffy suddenly wished a Hellmouth would open up under her feet and swallow her whole.

She knew she shouldn't have come here. Things were finally starting to be okay between her and Willow. In fact, Willow was one of the few people who understood why she had to leave the group, that she needed some time away, if there was any chance of her coming back again. The others had been much less understanding. A few of the girls even accused her abandoning them, and honestly, maybe they were right. Still, she had to do it, and she did, with Willow's support. Her show of solidarity was the first step toward reconciliation between them.

And now she was messing it up, just like she was afraid of.

It was all that stupid non-werewolf's fault.

"Hello? Buffy? Are you still with me?"

Buffy gave a start and realized Willow was staring at her, obviously waiting for her to make with the explaining.

"It's nothing, really. I mean, can a werewolf even fall under the slayage category, seeing as there's no actually slaying going on?" she asked. "And anyway, it doesn't mean anything. It definitely doesn't mean I'm going back to it. I'm just doing this one last time to... to get it out of my system. Closure, if you will. Then I'll move on with no apologies and no regrets. And is it just me, or do I sound like I'm in a relationship with it?"

As she took a much needed breath, she glanced over at Willow. To her dismay, she saw that her friend's face was bright red. It took a minute before she realized it was because she was trying not to laugh.

"Wow, Buff, I think you just beat me in the babble category there," Willow teased.

"So... you're not mad?" Buffy asked nervously.

Suddenly, Willow became dead serious. "Well, of course, I'm mad. Now I owe Xander twenty bucks," she said. At Buffy's confused look, she smirked. "He said you'd be slaying again by the end of the month. I said it would take two."

Buffy felt her jaw drop. "You... he... _what_?"

Willow's laughter disappeared when she saw how distressed Buffy was.

"It's okay, Buffy. Really it is," she reassured her. "There are no hard feelings about it, honest. We just know _you_. You wouldn't turn your back on anything slayer-related, not when innocent people could get hurt."

Buffy swallowed hard. It was getting more and more difficult to deny the fact that slaying was still very much part of her, wasn't it? Still, she wasn't quite ready to accept it yet, at least not completely. After all, the land of denial was lovely this time of year.

"Maybe," she conceded. "But there's a big difference between this back-to-basics kind of slaying and the kind that involves apocalypses."

Willow nodded fervently in agreement. "I hear you on that one," she said. Then she clapped her hands together. "So, tell me all about this werewolf."

"No," Buffy immediately replied. "I didn't come here to talk shop."

Willow pouted. "Oh, come on, Buffy. This is the most excitement I've had in weeks. Seriously, if it wasn't for the incredibly abundant and highly suspicious amount of dried herbs hanging everywhere, you wouldn't even _know_ I was living with a coven of witches. And sure, I think that's mostly because Nora ordered everyone not to do magic around me in case it sends me spiralling back downward into a mind-numbing depression, but _still_, sometimes we need a little vicarious living," she huffed.

Buffy smiled, despite herself. "I think you just took back the babbling title," she said. Her smile quickly faded, though, as she was reminded of the other reason why she had dreaded seeing her friend. "So your magic hasn't returned yet?"

"Nope. Nora's still working on it, although she has a few ideas about what happened," Willow said with a shrug.

Even though Willow talked like it was no big, Buffy knew differently. She had gone through a similar experience with the Cruciamentum. She had also seen Willow right after they had closed the Hellmouth, when they all finally realized something was wrong.

Buffy bit her lip, an overwhelming surge of guilt washing over her. After all, the activation spell had been her idea.

"Willow, I-"

"Don't you dare apologize _again_, Buffy Anne Summers. We all did what we had to, and you know what? It saved the world. Seriously, no one blames you, so just stop this," Willow ordered.

"_No one_ blames me?" Buffy asked pointedly.

"Not anymore. We worked all that out, remember?" she insisted. At Buffy's continued look, she pressed her lips together in an effort to hide her smile. "Okay, _Kennedy_ still blames you. But I'm working on that, I promise. Now spill."

Finally giving in, Buffy told Willow all about the werewolf she was tracking, including her encounter with the mystery wizard the previous night. She glossed over the part about the attempted memory assault, though. She knew how guilty Willow still felt over what she had done to Tara. Instead, she focused on what he had told her about her intended target.

"From what this wizard was insinuating, it sounds like this Greyback is a pretty nasty wolf," Buffy concluded. "If that's the case, I may have to handle this differently."

Willow frowned. "Before you go, let me talk to Maris. Her parents were wizards, but both she and her sister aren't. Maris was able to learn my kind of magic, but I'm pretty sure her sister decided to stay with her parents, so she might be able to help."

* * *

><p>"Bill Weasley."<p>

Buffy's eyes snapped open. She had been lying among the flowers, just enjoying the feel of sunlight on her face while Willow went to go talk to some people. After so many nights prowling around in damp forests, it was a welcome change. She must have dozed off, though, because the sun was significantly lower in the sky now.

Propping herself up on her elbows, she looked at Willow, who was looking down at her with a triumphant smile on her face.

"Huh?"

Willow rolled her eyes and sat down next to Buffy. "The wizard you met last night," she elaborated "Maris said his name is Bill Weasley. Apparently, Greyback's attack on him was big news when it happened. Something about Bill defending a school of kids against an attack led by Greyback and some other dark wizards."

Buffy groaned and fell back on the grass. "Great, you just had to make him all noble and tragic, didn't you? Now I'm going to feel bad the next time I pound him into the ground."

She heard Willow snort with laughter.

It took her a moment to realize why.

"I didn't mean it like that!" she exclaimed, her face burning with embarrassment. "So did your friend have the 411 on Greyback?"

Willow grimaced, all traces of humor gone. "Yes. And it's not good. Like I said, Greyback was part of a group of dark wizards who thought all non-magical people were inferior to them. Their leader was very powerful, very dogmatic, and very ruthless. Think Hitler but with magic," she said grimly. "There was this huge war a few years ago between this group and some other wizards, of which this Bill was a part of-"

With a yelp, Buffy sat up. "What?! Are you seriously telling me that there was an entire _war_ where one side wanted to exterminate everyone who couldn't do magic - which is most of the world, by the way - and this is the first we're hearing about it?"

"Right, because we put out a PSA for every yearly world endage," Willow said dryly. She laughed when Buffy stuck her tongue out at her. "Seriously, Buff, right or wrong, these wizards play it close to the chest. Luckily, the good guys won."

Buffy blew out her breath as she took a minute to think about everything Willow had said. It looked like she would have to bring out the heavy artillery after all. Still, she wanted to be absolutely sure first. This wasn't the kind of a decision she made lightly.

"So why attack sheep? That doesn't really seem to fit the MO, does it?"

Willow shrugged. "I don't know. Maybe he's trying to fly under the radar? Maris was definitely spooked when I mentioned his name. And from what she said, it looks like this Bill guy wasn't exaggerating. Greyback enjoys the kill, whether he's wolfed out or not, and when he is... well, let's just say that it's the younger the better for him. The guy's evil through and through."

Buffy had heard enough. Willow was right. She needed to take care of this guy, the sooner the better. Without another word, she pushed herself up off the ground.

Willow joined her a second later.

"Buffy, before you go, I have a few things for you. Gifts, to help you," she explained.

Buffy immediately shook her head. "Will, you really don't have to. You've done more than enough."

Willow smirked. "They're not from me, they're from Nora," she replied.

That got Buffy's attention. From their brief interactions, Buffy got the impression that the head witch had nothing but disdain for her. Curiosity overwhelming her objections, she watched as Willow reached for a bag on the ground Buffy hadn't noticed before.

Before she pulled whatever was inside out, however, Willow paused, a hesitant look on her face.

"Buffy, I have to tell you something Nora told me in the house just now, something about you," she said. Then she took a deep breath. "Slayers have magic in them."

Buffy's eyebrows flew upward. "Whoa, wait a sec. That's just crazy talk. I've never been good with magic, remember?"

She was _thisclose_ to adding, 'that's all you', before she managed to catch herself.

By the slight twitch on Willow's face, she thought her near slip might have been noticed anyway. Before she could apologize, however, Willow's expression smoothed and she began speaking as if it hadn't happened.

"I thought so, too, but according to Nora, 'Slayers by their very nature are magical beings. It's in their very essence. It is only due to the machinations of some highly insecure, severely short-sighted men that this gift has been allowed to dull over the centuries'," Willow explained, in a very bad yet highly amusing British accent.

Buffy laughed despite herself. "Okay, then. If that's true, why is she only telling us this now?"

"Because up until this point, the slayer's always been in the control of these men," Willow explained. "Anyway, I wouldn't get too excited. Although Nora wasn't too forthcoming with the details - I think she sees this as a test or something - I got the impression that you won't be able to do magic or anything, not the same way wizards or Wiccans can at least. Yours will be more intuitive, more subtle. Does this make any sense?"

"Nope, and I don't have time to figure it out now," Buffy immediately replied. "Her Majesty deign to impart any other words of wisdom?"

Willow hushed her, though the effect was ruined by the grin on her face. "Nope, she just wanted me to give you this."

Then, without any further preamble, she pulled a necklace out of the bag. It was delicately wrought, with whorls and swirls intricately woven into a very fancy knot. When Buffy looked closer, she thought she saw some runes carved into the metal threads.

"This will help protect you against magical attacks and enhance your own abilities, which you'll need for _this_," Willow said. As she spoke, she pulled something else from the bag.

Buffy gasped. It was a weapon, something of a cross between a dagger and a short sword - the perfect size for her, by the looks of it, with a short leather-clad hilt and a shiny blade that tapered into a sharp point. It was gorgeous.

Willow held it out to her, and after a moment's hesitation, Buffy took it. As soon as her hand had fully grasped the hilt - which was surprisingly supple to the touch - she felt something; a tingling warmth that raced through her body.

She looked up at Willow in astonishment.

"Nora may not be full of warm fuzzies, but she definitely knows her stuff," Willow murmured. Then she gave Buffy a wry smile. "I think you and Carnwennan just bonded."

With a grin, Buffy inspected the sword in earnest.

Up close, she could now see that, like the necklace, it also had runes, which ran down the length of the blade on one side. On the other, there was a jagged line, one that looked like a lightning bolt or something. The most surprising feature was on the pommel, though; set inside was a pale brown crystal, rounded and smoothed into a sphere.

She looked up at Willow questioningly.

"Smoky quartz," Willow said. Then she clapped her hands together. "Okay, now it's time to learn how to use it."

Buffy rolled her eyes. "Uh, Willow? I think that's the one thing I _do_ know how to do."

She hadn't even finished speaking before Willow was shaking her head.

"Not this sword. This one you can _summon_. You just have to focus on it and call it by its name."

Buffy frowned. Names were not her strong suit.

"Uh, could you tell me its name again?"

"Carwennan."

Yeah, there was no way she was going to remember that. On the other hand, weapons weren't given names willy nilly. They were reserved for those that deserved it - which meant mangling its pronunciation would be a major sign of disrespect.

Buffy gazed at the blade in question. "How about I call you Winnie? Would that work?" she murmured.

Then she waited. When she didn't get zapped on the spot, she took it as a sign that it was okay.

And with that they got to work.

Unfortunately, it wasn't as easy as it looked. First she had to learn how to clear her mind and visualize it. Then she had to half-ask, half-will it to appear in her hand. By the time Buffy finally managed to make the sword materialize, she was out of breath and covered in sweat.

"Excellent, Buffy!" Willow encouraged.

Buffy looked up at her with a weak smile. "Yeah, as long as the baddies are willing to give me a meditation break mid-battle to the death, I'm good."

Willow shook her head. "You're over the hump. With a little practice, you'll be summoning with the best of them."

Buffy straightened up. "I hope so," she replied. Then she frowned. "I hate to say it, but I can't stay any longer. I want to catch this guy ASAP."

She held out her arm, which Willow immediately took. Arms linked, they walked to one of the entrances to the manor. When they got to the door, however, they stopped, knowing it was time to say goodbye.

At first, they just stared at each other, both at a loss for words. Then Buffy gave Willow a big hug.

"Thank you, Willow. For everything. Now you just focus on getting better so you can start kicking some Wicca ass again."

Willow immediately hugged her back. "I will," she promised. As she pulled back, however, she bit her lip uncertainly. "Will you come back when this is over?"

Buffy blinked in surprise; not at the question, but because Willow honestly thought she might say no.

"Do you even have to ask? Of course I'll come!" she said, pulling her in for another quick hug.

"Good," Willow said, her relief obvious. She broked away and opened the door. "Buffy, maybe you should consider working with Bill Weasley. I don't like the idea of you going up against this Greyback alone."

"Absolutely not," Buffy immediately replied, maybe a little too quickly, judging by the look on Willow's face.

Buffy hesitated. She didn't want to upset Willow, but it could be important for her to know, especially if Buffy crossed paths with him again.

"He tried to erase my memory of him and Greyback."

Willow blanched, and Buffy instantly regretted not sticking to her guns.

"Don't worry. Between my nifty new sword and necklace, he doesn't stand a chance," she said as reassuringly as she could.

"And if even tries it again, he'll have me to deal with, magic or not," Willow said, her eyes sparking dangerously with anger. Then she sighed. "Just... be careful, okay?"

Buffy smirked. "Aren't I always?"

* * *

><p>AN: Yes, I powered Buffy up a little bit. Please don't hate me.


	4. you can't always get what you want

Bill had always prided himself on the steadfastness of his family, that despite all their hardships, they always looked after one another and came out stronger for it. Of course, it also meant that sometimes, they couldn't leave well enough alone, which was why he had been avoiding them for the past some odd months, communicating primarily by owl, if at all.

Shame it all had to end before he was ready; by his own hand, no less. It couldn't be helped, though. He needed information, and there was only one person who could get it for him.

With that, Bill threw a handful of Floo powder into the fireplace and shouted, "The Burrow!" as he stepped inside. A few moments later, he was greeted by the sight of his childhood home.

He had to admit, it was a welcome sight. Before he dared take a step out of the fireplace, however, he listened carefully to the sounds - and smells - around him.

He had known that most of his family would be at work already, but he wasn't certain about his mum. After a long moment, however, he let out a sigh of relief.

She wasn't there. It seemed as though she had kept up her habit of going to market on this particular day at this particular time.

Bill grinned, utterly pleased with himself as he stepped out of the fireplace. Now that the first order of business was taken care of, he could move on to the second.

He found her in the sitting room, her nose, not surprisingly, in a book. In fact, she was so engrossed in whatever it was she was reading, she didn't notice his entrance into the room.

Bill's grin grew wider. "Hermione!" he said, a little louder than was strictly necessary.

He did it as a lark, thinking he would have a bit of fun with his tightly wound sister-in-law; and indeed, he laughed when she jumped in surprise at the sound of his voice. When he noticed how red her face was becoming, and how large her belly was as she struggled to get to her feet, however, he felt like the world's biggest tosser - particularly since he had _known_ that she was living here at the Burrow until the baby came because she had had such a difficult pregnancy, and that she was due any day now.

"Hermione, I'm so sorry. Really, I-"

Apparently, it was too little too late. She brushed his apology aside without the slightest hesitation and glared at him, her eyes bright with anger.

"Bill Weasley!" she hissed. "Where have you been? We haven't heard from you in over a week, not even a single owl."

Bill winced. It was worse than he'd thought. "I know. I've been... busy."

That only seemed to make it worse.

"Don't you know everyone is worried sick about you?" she fumed, her eyes finding the bruise on his jaw, which no amount of potion or salve could make disappear. "I have a half a mind to owl your mother right now and tell her to come back here."

Bill gave a start at this. Clearly, he had underestimated her. He needed to work himself out of this mess, and quickly.

"Please, Hermione, not yet. I promise that I'll come by for a proper visit soon. I just need a little more time," he pleaded. Then he went in for the kill. "You know my mum will want to talk about Fleur... and other issues... and I'm just not ready for that yet."

Her face softened at this, just like he'd hoped it would. A long moment passed before she nodded, albeit a bit grudgingly.

"Alright," she relented. "But it had better be soon."

Bill broke out into a relieved grin. "Thank you, Hermione," he replied. He crossed over to her and gave her a quick, brotherly peck on the cheek. "You're the best."

She simply rolled her eyes as she sat back down on the sofa. "Honestly, you Weasley men are unbelievable. It's a wonder your mother hasn't up and murdered the lot of you."

"And deprive the world of our Weasley charm?" Bill said in mock horror, as he plunked himself down in his parents' well worn but comfortable armchair.

Hermione gave him rude gesture, showing him exactly what she thought about that.

Bill laughed. "Why, Hermione Granger, I didn't know you knew such language," he scolded.

She just ignored his comment. "So, Bill, if you're not here to see your mum, then why are you here?"

Always to the point, she was. Still, Bill thought he needed to soften her up a little bit more before he sprung his favor upon her. And since this was Hermione, who could see through the bullshit right away, he decided to lay it on extra thick.

"To see my favorite sister-in-law, of course."

True to form, Hermione bristled. "Bill, Penelope and Angelina are quite lovely. You'd know that if you ever came around," she accused. "Why are you really here?"

"To let my niece or nephew hear the dulcet tones of what will undoubtedly be his or her favorite uncle?" he offered.

She just crossed her arms over her chest.

Bill resisted the urge to make a face at her. She always was the no nonsense type. It was one of the many reasons why she and Ron worked so well.

"I need your help," he admitted. Then, deciding that the time to mince words had passed, he added, "With a little research project."

He watched as a myriad of emotions flitted across Hermione's face.

Under the most ordinary of circumstances, the mention of research would have caught her interest. Now, after being cooped up in the Burrow for a few months now, she had to practically restrain herself from agreeing to help him right there on the spot, no questions asked. He could see it in her eyes.

But restrain herself she did. She didn't say a single word. She just waited for him to explain what he meant.

Bill leaned forward in his chair. This was it; the time to lay everything out on the table and hope that, by the time he had finished, she hadn't summoned his mum – or the wizards at St. Mungo's.

"I had a run-in with a Vampire Slayer last night. Apparently we were looking for the same person," he said dryly.

"A Vampire Slayer?" Hermione gasped, her eyebrows raised alarmingly high. "Are you sure?"

Bill ruefully nodded, his fingers ghosting over his jaw. "I'm sure."

Hermione's eyes became the size of saucers. "Bill Weasley!" she practically screeched. "Tell me you did not attack her! You know that, ever since the Roanoke-Grenville Accord of 1586, it is expressly forbidden to perform magic of any sort on a Slayer or her Watcher."

"I know," Bill grumbled, feeling a bit tetchy at the rebuke. "But I didn't have much of a choice, at the time. She's... how did she put it? A 'hit first, ask questions later' sort of girl- Wait, what's a Watcher?"

"A Watcher is a Slayer's mentor, someone who guides her in her responsibilities by providing training and counsel, as well as support out in the field," Hermione said, almost as if she were reciting it from a textbook - which she probably was.

Bill paid it no heed. He was too busy thinking back to the previous night. He hadn't seen anyone like that lurking about, and he certainly hadn't sensed anything. But then, as he was painfully reminded last night, his senses weren't exactly at their sharpest. Still, it irked him immensely that someone else could have been there, unbeknownst to him. He began to wonder if a certain frustrating blonde had been correct after all-

"He's really back, isn't he?"

Bill snapped back to attention at the sound of Hermione' voice. At his look, she continued on, though she was clearly loathe to do so.

"I didn't want to believe it when you had first told us about your suspicions," she quietly admitted. "I know you wouldn't say such things if you didn't have evidence, but it just didn't seem possible. So many people saw him fall in the last battle, even if his body was never recovered. And with the baby on the way… I'm sorry, Bill, we should have believed you."

Bill regarded her for a moment before replying. She seemed calm, but he suspected she was anything but. Though she, Harry, and Ron had been sparse on the details, the whole family had known that Greyback had taken an interest in Hermione during the war.

While he didn't want to worry her, he also wasn't going to lie.

"Yes, he is."

She blew out a shaky breath.

"But why?" she asked, just as much to herself as it was to him. "His side lost the war. There is nothing here for him except Azkaban or death. What does he stand to gain?"

"Revenge," Bill stated firmly, for he himself had been thinking about this for quite some time. "It's the only reason to come back. I believe it's why he hasn't made his presence known yet, aside from the animal attacks."

Hermione fell silent as she absorbed this information. Both she and Bill knew very well who Greyback might want revenge on.

Bill decided to use the opportunity to the fullest.

"I have to admit, I was glad to hear that you and Ron are staying here until the baby is born. And that my parents never removed the Fidelius Charm on the house," Bill said. "I've mentioned my concerns to Harry several times as well. Perhaps you might have a word with him now, too, to make sure everyone is looked after?"

Hermione nodded. "Of course. I just wish I, or for that matter,_Harry_, could do more. But Auror or not, he still needs the approval of the Ministry," she said quietly. Then she shook her head briskly, clearly wanting to get back to the matter at hand. "What exactly is it you want from me, Bill? How can I help?"

Bill gave her a small smile. "You can't, not with Greyback. Nor would I ask that of you. But I do need to know more about Vampire Slayers," he replied. "I obviously was not expecting to run into her last night, and I don't want to be caught unprepared, if our paths should cross again, because unfortunately, I believe they will."

Hermione frowned. "If you're both looking for Greyback, could you not work together?"

"No," Bill immediately said, a little more forcefully than intended.

Hermione's eyebrows shot up in surprise. Because he couldn't very well tell her that the girl riled the werewolf within like no other, he hastily tried to think of a reasonable explanation.

As it turned out, it wasn't that difficult.

"To begin with, she's a bossy little thing. And quite violent, though I suppose that comes with the job. Regardless, I'm pretty certain I'd end up concussed or worse before we found him," he said. "And then there's the matter of how Greyback should be handled. She clearly has no idea who he is or what his history is, and I don't want to get mired in Council-Ministry politics because we can't agree on a course of action. No, it's best if I worked this one out by myself."

By the time he had finished, Hermione had the most curious expression on her face, one he couldn't read at all. As the seconds ticked by and she didn't move, Bill began to get nervous.

If she wouldn't help him, his only other option was his straighter than an arrow brother, and Bill highly doubted Percy would help him for something like this; for as much as the Battle of Hogwarts had changed his brother, made him a stalwart for anything that involved his family, he still had an annoying penchant for following the rules, down to the last letter.

Just when he was about to up and leave, figuring he had been refused despite everything, she finally spoke.

"Alright. I'll help," she relented, and Bill resisted the urge to envelope her in a bear hug. "I'll have to owl you with the information, however. Though I know a bit about Vampire Slayers, I'd like to cross-reference my sources first, just to be certain I'm correct. I've heard a few rumors circulating around the Ministry that may also bear some looking into, something involving a powerful Wiccan."

Bill beamed at her. "Thank you, Hermione. I owe you one."

She shook her head. "It's the least I can do, for not believing you when you first told us about Greyback."

That caught him by surprise, and he felt a rush of affection for his sister-in-law. "I wish I were wrong," he said sincerely.

She nodded. They both fell silent for a moment before he stood to leave.

"Well, I guess I'll wait to hear from you then?" he asked.

"No," she said. At his confused look, she hastily explained. "Before you go, tell me more about the girl. For research purposes, of course. Perhaps I can find a bit of information about her specifically."

Bill shrugged as he thought back to the previous night's encounter.

"Well, she's a bit of a thing, only a little over a meter and a half, I would guess," he said. "She has long, blonde hair, green eyes. Thin, too. A lot thinner than someone like her should probably be, not that it seemed to inhibit her at all. And she's American. Merlin, the way she speaks. It's mind boggling. You'd need a dictionary just to have a conversation with her. And-" Bill stopped mid-sentence. Hermione had that odd expression on her face again. "What?"

She just shook her head. "Nothing. I'll see what I can find," she said quickly.

Bill was suspicious, but he didn't want to press, as she was doing him an enormous favor. Instead he walked over to her and placed a kiss on the top of her head, wisely refraining from mentioning that pregnancy seemed to make her normally bushy hair even more so.

"You're the best, Hermione," he said. "I definitely owe you one."

"Just make sure you keep your promise and stop in soon," she said sternly.

"Yes, ma'am," he replied dutifully.

Though she gave him an arch look in response, he saw the small smile tug at the corner of her mouth.

With that, he stepped into the Floo once more. He had a wand to replace.

* * *

><p>"Hmm… Intriguing."<p>

"What's that?" Bill asked irritably, fighting the urge to throw the wand he was holding across the room.

Ollivander gave him an odd little grin. "Never you mind, Master Weasley. We will find you a wand yet."

And with that, he disappeared in the back room.

Bill let out a loud sigh, slumping into the chair behind him as he put the wand back in its box. He had been in the old man's shop for the better part of an hour now looking for a new wand, and as the boxes littered around him could attest, he'd had no luck whatsoever.

And here he'd thought it would be a simple matter when he first had walked in, perhaps requiring no more effort than giving Ollivander the specifications of his previous wand.

He had quickly been disabused of that notion by the old wandmaker, of course; with a sniff of disdain and a lecture on wandlore, no less. Still, he hadn't thought it would take quite this long. As Ollivander pointed out, however, he had changed quite a bit since the last time he had come. The crafty old fox had even hinted that Bill was changing still, hence the difficulty in finding a compatible wand.

Bill scowled, not liking this last bit at all; but there was nothing he could do about it - or the search for a new wand - so he sat back in his chair and waited.

Just as he started to settle in, however, he heard a loud tapping noise.

Searching out the source of the noise, Bill soon found himself staring at his father's owl, peering in at him through the storefront window with something large clutched in its talons. Even from his vantage point, he could see his name scrawled on package in the neat, unmistakable handwriting of one Hermione Granger.

Bill leapt to his feet and hurried over to the door. A few strides later, he was next to the owl, relieving the poor beast of its oversized burden.

With the package now in hand, he couldn't help but marvel at Hermione; not at how quickly she had responded - this was _Hermione_ they were talking about, after all - but at the size of the package itself.

His curiosity fully piqued, he quickly opened it. Inside was a letter and two books.

Bill immediately went for the letter first, devouring the words as quickly as he could.

_Dear Bill,_

_Enclosed is a book describing Vampire Slayers, one I retrieved from a private collection (as a side note, I'd appreciate it if you never mentioned this to Ron, as he would not be pleased if he knew which collection it had come from). I found it quite enlightening, as most Ministry-related notes on the subject are pure rubbish, as they often are when they speak of something they cannot or do not want to understand._

_Also, I believe I found the particular girl you encountered, though it was more difficult than I originally imagined, due to the fact that there is now more than one Vampire Slayer in existence. I have explained the circumstances around this quite surprising development in a separate document, which you will find in the inside cover of the first book._

_Her name is Buffy Summers. She is actually quite famous, as both the longest living Vampire Slayer and the most accomplished, having thwarted several attempts at destroying the world as we know it. In light of this, I urge you to reconsider enlisting her aid. If you choose to do so, I've enclosed another book that you may find useful._

_All the best,_  
><em>Hermione<em>

Bill looked at the two books. The first was a large tome entitled "Vampyr". Despite its intimidating size, however, he was grateful for it.

It was the second book that almost had him running for the hills, despite its sleek design and glossy cover. But then, he suspected "The American Muggle: Confusing and Amusing Proverbs and Phrases" had that effect on many a wizard.


	5. second verse, same as the first

As Buffy pushed her way through yet another set of thick brambles, she could admit it.

Greyback was good.

Not that she expected that it would be a cakewalk to find him again. Between being a wizard and a werewolf, he probably had a few tricks up his sleeve to stay hidden; which, now that she thought about it, was probably why it had taken her three days just to catch a glimpse of him. Still, she had started off the night believing that this would be the easy part, that she was simply doing Scooby due diligence by checking out the area where she had last seen him. She hadn't really expected to find his trail, or that it would be an incredibly intricate web of double backs and dead ends.

Thankfully, she was no slouch, either, and this time she was better prepared. With a backpack full of supplies, her crossbow, and Winnie, she was picking through all the false trails and following the real one — albeit at a much slower rate than she would have preferred.

_Survivalist training,_ she thought to herself, as she yanked her leg free of a particularly grabby branch. _All slayers should have to do some sort of survivalist training._

It made sense. Though it wasn't something they would need all the time — or hopefully ever — it could save lives if it ever _was_ needed.

It would also have the added bonus of driving Kennedy crazy. Just thinking of the annoying girl being dropped in the woods with nothing but a knife, some water, and the fading tracks of a demon to follow brought a grin to Buffy's face.

Sure, the girl was beyond tough, even Buffy could admit that — to herself. She wouldn't have survived the final battle in Sunnydale if she wasn't. All the demons in the world couldn't erase Kennedy's Park Avenue attitude, though, and she would definitely _not_ be happy slogging through a forest like this.

Not that Buffy could talk. If Giles had ever suggested something like that to her… well, it wouldn't have been pretty.

It was crazy how much things could change in a year.

Before she got too far into imagining what this test would look like — which of course would be called the 'Hansel and Gretel' — she stopped herself.

It wasn't up to her to train the girls. She didn't _want_ it to be. Of course, she didn't want to feel the exhilaration of the hunt, either, or the way the cool forest air felt like a breath of freedom. And yet there they were. Again.

Buffy scowled. The sooner she found the werewolf, the better. Clearly, the slayer slope was too slippery for her.

Annoyed now, she picked up the pace, practically stomping her way down the trail. She knew it was immature and non-stealthy of her. Still, she didn't stop, she couldn't; at least, not until she came across some very familiar, very magically burnt shrubbery in front of her. Then she came to an abrupt halt, all but shocked into stillness by the sight before her.

She was right back where she had started, where it _all_ had started the previous night with Bill Weasley. Greyback had led her on a wild goose chase.

_No,_ she immediately corrected herself. _It's worse than that._

He wasn't just being cautious and covering his trail. He had known he was being followed, or at least suspected it. Either way, the cat was definitely out of the bag now. There was no way he wouldn't have picked up her scent here, or see the obvious damage around him.

Her already black mood grew just a shade darker. She had been counting on the element of surprise. Now that was obviously gone, and she had run out of leads, to boot.

Biting back her frustration, Buffy started to leave, her mind already on what her next steps should be. She had only taken a few steps, however, when she heard something; a noise, a little ways off.

Buffy frowned. It couldn't possibly be Greyback. On the other hand, she had nothing to lose if she checked it out, and she really couldn't afford to miss the opportunity if it was him.

Without any further hesitation, she followed the sounds. She immediately noticed that she was headed toward the exact spot where she and Bill Weasley had had their second little 'chat' the previous night.

That couldn't be a coincidence.

Her anticipation heightened, Buffy stopped and slid her backpack off her shoulders, hiding in the crevice of an old, gnarled tree, taking with her only her crossbow and Winnie. Then she continued on, taking extra care to move as silently as she could.

It wasn't until the clearing came into view — or more specifically, when she saw a flash of red hair — that she realized it was a wasted effort.

Buffy bit back a groan. She knew that running into Bill Weasley again was inevitable. They were, after all, looking for the same baddie. Still, she had hoped.

Not wanting to be seen, Buffy partially hid behind the closest tree to see what he was doing.

To her surprise, he knelt on the forest floor and began sifting through the leaves, obviously in search of something. He was so intent in his task, he didn't sense her presence at all. His angry muttering probably didn't help.

Buffy rolled her eyes. She had no idea how she ever thought he was Greyback. No self-respecting werewolf would've been caught dead making that much noise — emphasis on 'self-respecting'.

She watched him for another minute before she made up her mind. Though she knew she was tempting fate, that she should probably just turn and walk away, she couldn't. She hadn't forgiven him for trying to mess with her mind, she was cranky, and it was just too good an opportunity to pass up. Plus, there was the off chance that he knew something useful about Greyback.

Slowly, she rested Winnie against the tree. Then she bent down toward the ground and picked up a stone. When she was sure his back was completely turned, she stepped out from behind the tree and threw it.

It landed mere inches next to his searching hand — right where she had intended it to.

In a flash, he was on his feet and facing her, _with_ a brand spanking new wand in his hand.

Buffy scowled, though she could hardly complain. She had had both her crossbow and sword aimed at him before the rock hit the ground — knowing full well who he was.

As recognition slowly sank in, she saw him relax ever so slightly, though not enough to lower the wand.

Smart man, she thought. Lousy wolf, but smart man.

She gave him a small smile. "We've really got to stop meeting like this, Bill Weasley."

His eyes widened slightly at his name; however, he simply replied, "We certainly do, Buffy Summers."

Buffy narrowed her eyes, her smile gone. She supposed turnabout was fair play, but she didn't have to like it.

They regarded each other for a long moment, each trying to out-stubborn the other. Bill was the first to give.

"Look, I know you're not crazy about me, and truth be told, I'd like to stay as far away from you as possible, but can we at least call a truce?" he asked, lowering his wand cautiously in a show of good faith.

He was right; she knew it in her gut. Still, Buffy waited a beat before lowering her weapons as well, just to make him sweat.

"Alright" she conceded as she leaned against the tree in a deceptively casual pose. Then, because she couldn't resist, she added, "Nice wand, by the way."

Bill quirked his eyebrow at her. "Thank you, though I'd appreciate it if you didn't come within a Quidditch pitch of it."

Though she had no idea what a Quid-whatever was, his meaning was clear, and she made a face at him. "Sure, just don't give me a reason to."

"Fair enough," Bill nodded. "Of course, that would be easier if you stopped hurling rocks at me."

"Really? Because the way I see, I was doing you a favor," Buffy shot back.

Bill snorted. "How so?"

"By showing you how craptastic you are at this whole wolf thing."

His expression immediately darkened. Though she would've bet money that he had never heard the word 'craptastic' before, he got the gist of what she was saying, and he didn't like it.

Buffy didn't care.

"Don't you get it? Out here, Greyback has a real advantage over you, over _both_ of us," she continued. "So you need to get that furry chip off your shoulder, stop fighting against your instincts, and start embracing the wolf inside. If you don't, he's going to catch you off-guard, like I just did. Only then you'll be dead."

As she spoke, she couldn't help but think of her own situation and the conflicting emotions she had about slaying. And dammit all, it made her feel uncomfortably hypocritical. Thankfully, Bill Weasley had no way of knowing this.

"Shouldn't you be concerned as well then, seeing as you lack the magical abilities that we do?" he retorted, clearly deciding to ignore everything she had said.

She smirked. "I'm working on it."

She thought she was being cryptic enough, but his eyes strayed to her sword almost immediately. Not in the mood for questions, especially ones she wasn't going to answer, she cut him off at the pass.

"So what are you looking for anyway?"

He studied her for a moment before replying. "My wand. I couldn't find it last night, but I couldn't just leave it lying about, either, so I thought I'd have another go at it," he said.

Buffy scrunched her brow in confusion. "Can't you just abracadabra your wand to you?"

For some reason, this made him flush a deep red.

"No," he bit out.

Buffy stared at him for a moment, wondering what his deal was, until she remembered that she didn't care.

She pushed herself off the tree. "Okay, then. Happy hunting."

She began to turn and walk away. Behind her, she heard a deep sigh of relief, quickly followed by some more rustling, indicating that he had resumed his search.

As surreptitiously as she could, Buffy peeked over her shoulder. She saw that he was looking right in the spot he had been in before she had interrupted. Unfortunately for him, he was way off. She had thrown the wand close to a big birch, one that was behind her.

Buffy rolled her eyes. Apparently, wizards were useless without their magic.

Still, she kind of felt bad for him; not enough to help or anything, but enough to feel the slightest twinge of pity. The guy was royally screwed, and he didn't even know it. There was nothing she could do to change _that_, though, so she kept on walking — until she reached the base of the birch in question. That was when her pesky conscience reared its ugly head.

Even as she second guessed herself, Buffy turned back toward him. "You might want to try looking over here," she suggested, pointing to the tree on her right. "I've got a good arm, especially when I'm pissed off."

"A fact I know firsthand," he said wryly, gesturing to his face, which she noticed still had a pretty big bruise on it. Then he offered her a small but genuine smile. "Thank you."

She gave a brief nod of acknowledgment. "It's no big," she said.

She watched as he made his way over to the birch, covering the distance with a handful of long strides. Soon, he was on his hands and knees again, searching the ground.

Satisfied that she had done all that she could — or at least, all she was willing to do — Buffy made to leave yet again. As she turned to go, however, she spotted something out of the corner of her eye, on her other side off to the left.

It was half of Bill Weasley's wand, sticking out of the ground. It must have ricocheted off the tree and landed there.

At the same time, she heard Bill give a triumphant "Ha!"

Obviously, he had found the other half.

Buffy was tempted to just go, figuring she had already gone above and beyond the help he deserved. Once again, however, conscious nagged at her, unable to let her walk away.

With a long suffering sigh, she leaned Winnie against a tree and picked it up.

"Hey, I—"

The words died in her mouth as she saw the look on Bill's face.

He had gone completely white, as if he had seen a ghost. His broken wand, on the other hand, suddenly had a pretty blue glow to it.

Then he disappeared.

Buffy gave a start. She hadn't been expecting that. At all. From the look on Bill's face, neither had he, and it bothered her — so much so that she didn't immediately notice when the piece of wand in _her_ hand began to glow. When she _did_ see, it was too late.

It felt like something had grabbed her by the gut and pulled forward, making the forest disappear in one nauseating moment.


	6. Stuck in the middle with you

A/N: Thank you for the reviews and favorites! They are _much_ appreciated!

* * *

><p>The bastard turned his wand into a portkey.<p>

That was Bill's last thought before he felt the unwelcome tug of magic. Then everything became a blur, quite literally.

Bill immediately felt a sense of alarm. He had traveled by portkey many times. This time felt distinctly different, however; accelerated somehow. Before he could even hazard a guess as to where Greyback was sending him, he was already being spit out — right over a large lake.

Startled, Bill was only just able to take a lungful of air before he found himself submerged in the icy cold water.

Unfortunately, his new wand in one hand and the broken one in the other, he was unable to propel himself through the water effectively; instead sinking deeper and deeper despite his best efforts. Realizing that he needed at least one free hand to swim up to the surface, he finally let go of the broken wand. As it disappeared into the murky depths below, he began to swim again, this time much more effectively, using the faint light of the moon as his guide.

When he finally broke through the surface of the water, he took a few grateful breaths of air. Shame it was knocked out of him a moment later when something heavy landed on him, pushing him back under the water once again.

Momentarily stunned, Bill sank a few feet before he managed to gather his wits. Before he could swim back to the surface, however, a flash of gold caught his eye.

Buffy Summers, he realized. She had been transported as well, no doubt by the other half of his wand. And she was swimming down toward the bottom of the lake.

In mute horror, Bill watched as she sliced through the water, thinking that she must have been confused. After all, portkey travel could be rather disorienting, particularly when it was the traveler's first time or if it was unexpected. She had the unfortunate luck of having both happen at the same time. Then he noticed the path she was taking; she was headed straight for that weapon of hers, which was rapidly sinking to the bottom. A moment later, they both disappeared from sight.

She wasn't confused. She was mental. And yet, it was his fault she was in this situation at all.

With no choice but to swim after her, Bill dove down after her.

Thankfully, though he had no doubt someone of her ability was a strong swimmer, his arm span far outmatched hers. Within moments, he had her back in his sights.

It was a good thing, too. For although she had managed to reach her weapon, something else had, too; many somethings, in fact.

Bill grimaced as the swarm of grindylows surrounded her, grabbing both her and her possession with their tentacles. She was fighting them off admirably, but there were too many of them; she would drown before they relinquished their prize, and they knew it. She probably did as well, and yet the stubborn little chit wouldn't let go.

Bill's mind raced as he swam ever closer, struggling to think of what he could do.

Under normal circumstances, magic was the obvious choice; however, the blasted wand he had finally gotten from Ollivander was tempermental on the best of days. It was why he was unable to summon his old wand with a simple Accio in the woods, and it was why he hesitated to use it now. It would hardly do to save the girl by blasting her to bits with a miscast spell.

On the other hand, he did not have many other options, and she was visibly weakening.

At that exact moment, one of the grindylows managed to sneak behind her and wrap its tentacle around her neck, and his decision was made for him.

Bill pointed his wand at the creatures.

"_Relashio!_"

The revulsion jinx came out of his mouth in a stream of bubbles. To his utter relief, however, it worked. A jet of boiling water shot at the grindylow, knocking it off of Buffy and sending it careening into a few others. As it began howling in obvious pain, the rest of little buggers momentarily back away, not wanting to risk being hit by another blast.

Bill seized his opportunity; though his lungs were screaming for air, he quickly closed the gap between him and Buffy and grabbed her around the waist. Then, using his last bit of breath, he swam as quickly as he could for the surface. Mercifully, she didn't fight him.

The night air had never tasted so sweet. He greedily sucked it down the moment he felt it on his face. Beside him, he heard Buffy sputtering and coughing, half drowned that she was. There was no time to rest, though, not with the grindylows below them still.

With his arm still around Buffy, Bill began to swim for the shoreline.

Unfortunately, it was a large lake, and they had managed to land almost squarely in the center. By the time they reached shallow water, Bill was good and knackered. Buffy was still limp, however, oddly so, so he forced himself to continue on, scooping her up in his arms and carrying her until his feet were on solid ground. It was only after he had gently deposited her on the ground that he finally allowed himself to sink to his knees in exhaustion.

"What the hell were those things?"

Bill jerked his head up in surprise at the sound of Buffy's voice, which was somewhat lower and hoarser than usual.

"Grindylows," he replied. "Nasty little creatures, aren't they?"

She didn't respond; instead she stared at her feet, a haunted look on her face as she gingerly touched her neck. Gone was the incredibly strong, extremely fearsome Slayer; in her place, was a bedraggled, vulnerable girl.

Bill looked away, giving her a moment to collect herself. It was what any decent bloke would do. He and his brothers did it for each other all the time when one of them was caught out of sorts.

He used the opportunity to take a look around. Aside from the lake, which he hoped to never touch again, he saw an expanse of trees. From his vantage point, they seemed to slope upward. Beyond that was more trees, all of which formed an ominous canopy. None of it looked familiar.

Bill rubbed a tired hand over his face. He was a little surprised when his hand came away wet. In all the excitement, he had forgotten that he was soaked to the bone.

Holding his breath, he got to his feet and performed a quick Hot-Air Charm — one that sputtered out before the slightest puff of air could reach him. Turning a little red, he tried again, this time with much more success.

He turned back toward Buffy, thinking to offer to do same for her; even though he knew full well there was just as much chance she would shove his wand up his arse as accept. Before he could put his life in peril, however, she got to her feet and came to stand next to him, her earlier mood gone as she coolly assessed her surroundings.

"How did we get here? And where are we?"

"Portkey," he replied. "Greyback enchanted my broken wand to bring us here."

Buffy frowned. "Why? The middle of a lake seems kind of strange. Unless he wanted those little gremlins finish us off?"

Bill swallowed his grin at her name for grindylows. "No, I imagine that's not what he intended at all," he said. "There's a reason only ordinary, every day items are supposed to be used as portkeys. You don't want the object's own magic interfering with the magic of the portkey. The results could be disastrous — much worse than falling into a lake of grindylows."

Part of him was surprised by how forthcoming he was being. The other part of him felt as if he owed it to her. Whether she appreciated it or not, he didn't know. But then, that wasn't the point.

She raised her eyebrow at him. "If you say so," she retorted, her fingers ghosting the angry red marks on her neck. Then she drew in a sharp breath. "I can't believe I'm saying this, but how do we get out of here? Can the key thingy bring us back?"

Bill shook his head. "One way trip, I'm afraid."

"Can you make another one then?"

Bill shook his head again, this time much more stiffly. "Magic has its limitations, one of them being distance. It's dangerous to create a portkey — or travel by any other magical means — without knowing where we are or how far we are from our destination."

Add to that the trouble he was having with his wand, and he'd be a bloody fool to try anything as complicated as Apparating. Getting splinched would be the best possible scenario.

"So basically what you're saying is that you're useless."

And just like that, she was under his skin again, all the previous goodwill he had been feeling gone.

Bill glared at her. "Yes, I suppose so, largely because someone broke my wand, and now I have one that hasn't decided if it even likes me, let alone if it wants to work properly."

She grinned at him, though in reality it was closer to a grimace. "Your wand has my complete sympathies."

Bill felt his temper rise even further. She just met his gaze defiantly, daring him to do something.

They stared at each other, neither one willing to back down. Bill could feel the tension ratcheting up with each passing second. Before it could boil over, however, a sound echoed across the lake, distracting them both.

It was the smallest sound, one that would not have caught their attention if they had not been standing on the edge of the lake. As it was, however, it carried over the still water quite easily.

Bill and Buffy both turned in the direction from which it came. They both glimpsed something moving close to the water's edge.

"Greyback?" Buffy wondered aloud.

"It's possible, I suppose," Bill said slowly.

And it was. They may not have landed exactly where Greyback wanted them to, but that didn't mean they were that far off, either. Then again, they were in a forest, one where magical creatures lived, as evidenced by the grindylows.

"It could also any other assortment of creatures, both magical and non-magical."

Buffy nodded, and almost absently, touched her side, looking for something. It was an automatic reaction, one he assumed, came from being the Slayer, only this time, there was nothing there.

"Crap! My crossbow! And _Winnie!_" she exclaimed.

To his chagrin, she started to move toward the water again, as if she were thinking of diving back in and duelling the grindylows again. It was a losing battle. Her bow was probably halfway across the lake by now, possibly in pieces, courtesy of the nasty little gits.

Bill quickly grabbed her arm to stop her from such a futile task.

At his touch, she whirled on him, her eyes sparking. Fortunately, before she could act on it, Bill caught sight of something close to the shoreline.

"Look," he hissed.

Buffy turned just in time to see the trees shudder as something very large moved through them, seemingly heading straight for them. Even worse, while it was still a ways from them, it was significantly closer than it had been moments ago.

"I have to get—"

"There's no time," Bill interrupted. "What was that you said to me, not ten minutes ago? Greyback has the advantage here, and right now, between the two of us, we have no weapons and a defunct wand. We need to get the hell out of here, formulate a plan, and above all else, _not go off bloody half-cocked_."

Eyes blazing again, she wrenched her arm away from him. To his surprise, she took a deep breath and nodded.

"You're right," she said. "Let's go."

With that, she turned on her heel and melted into the treeline.

Bill ground his teeth and followed. His frustration was soon forgotten, however, as it took all his concentration to keep up; for she was quick and agile, moving effortlessly through the trees like a bloody wood sprite.

The pace was relentless. Trees rushed by them in a blur. Though at times Bill felt like his legs were going to collapse, he pressed on.

Finally, eventually, Buffy came to an abrupt halt, throwing her arms up in frustration.

"What is this?! The Neverending Forest?"

Bill drew in a few deep puffs of air before responding.

"It's beginning to seem that way, isn't it? Perhaps we should stop and rest for a bit, start again when the sun is up."

She skewered him with a look. "Right, because I wouldn't want to make it too difficult for Greyback to kill me in my sleep," she retorted, gesturing to the lack of coverage around her.

Bill smirked. "If you give me a few moments, I may be able to fix that."

Without bothering to explain any further, he began walking once again toward a tiny outcropping of rock he spied just up ahead. It was nothing to speak of, really, just a large boulder or two, but it would do.

After a moment, he heard Buffy follow his lead. His smirk grew wider. Now all he needed was for his wand to behave itself.

When he finally reached the rocks, he paused, waiting for Buffy to catch up. Once she was standing next to him, he raised his wand — ignoring the small snort of disdain next to him.

Since his last few spells had been successful, he was feeling a bit more confident this time around. Still, he felt a distinct sense of relief when he felt the spells settle into place.

Five minutes later, the protection wards were complete.

Triumphant, he turned toward Buffy.

"We're safe, for now. Greyback — or anyone, for that matter — won't be able to penetrate the shielding charms in place. Just stay within five meters of this boulder," he said, pointing to the one closest to him.

Buffy stared at the invisible boundary for a moment before looking back at him. He could see the conflicting emotions in her eyes, probably trying to decide whether to believe him or not. He half-expected her to just leave and go her own way.

"I still don't think this is the best idea," she finally said. "A good night's sleep — and I use that term loosely — isn't going to change the fact that there's no food or water."

Bill shrugged noncommittally. "I believe I can help with that, too."

As he spoke, he reached inside the pocket of his trousers and pulled out the magically shrunken tent he had stored there for precisely something like this. He set it just in front of the largest boulder and pointed his wand at it.

"_Engorgio_."

A blue jet of light shot out of his wand and encircled the tent, enlarging it until it was its normal size.

Smothering a triumphant grin, he turned toward Buffy, whose eyes were as wide as saucers as she stared at the tent.

"After you," he said, making a sweeping motion with his arm.

"Uh uh," she replied. "I'm good."

He could see the mistrust written all over her face.

Feeling more annoyed than he cared for, Bill entered the tent. Though it was a little damp inside, the water repellant charm had, for the most part, held. He immediately headed over to the small pantry, grabbed a few apples, and stalked back outside.

He tossed one of them to Buffy, who caught it deftly with one hand.

"Eat it, toss it, do whatever you like with it. I would tell you that it's not poisoned, but you wouldn't believe me either way, would you?" he bit out.

Then he strode back into the tent and sat heavily in one of the chairs. Moodily, he ate the apple. Once he was finished, he forced himself to concentrate on the Greyback situation.

One thing was certain; Greyback had set a trap for him. Whether he had known that Bill would come back to retrieve his wand was irrelevant. The bastard probably didn't care. The important point was that he obviously wanted to capture Bill, probably hoping for a bit of sport before he killed him.

It further bolstered his theory that Greyback had returned for one reason and one reason only: revenge. Because of this, it made him extremely dangerous.

A slight noise outside the tent pulled him from his thoughts.

Rising to his feet, Bill quickly made his way over to the flap of the tent and peered out.

To his surprise, he saw that it was Buffy. He honestly thought she would've taken off by now.

Curiously, he watched her as she sat a meter or two away from the tent, leaning against one of the smaller boulders. Then she closed her eyes, her breathing becoming slow and regulated. Before long, tiny beads of sweat appeared on her forehead. Yet she didn't move, simply continuing to breath in and out in a slow rhythm.

She must have stayed there for a better part of an hour. Some might have found it as thrilling as sitting through one of Binns' lectures. Bill, however, was transfixed. He hadn't thought her capable of the stillness with which she sat, as all his encounters with her pointed to the contrary. Even more unexpected was the sense of peace it brought with it.

To his enormous regret, it was broken with startling abruptness soon thereafter.

Without warning, Buffy leapt to her feet with a look of victory. And in her hand was a gleaming sword.

Bill stared at her in disbelief.

Somehow she had summoned her sword — _through_ his wards.

Perhaps sensing his shock, she looked over at him. The look on her face, while not hostile, didn't invite any questions. So Bill simply turned and moved back into the tent.

Soon, he was ready to turn for the night. Before he settled into his cot, he looked at the opening of the tent. He hadn't heard a single sound since she had retrieved her sword. She was probably long gone by now.

With a sigh, he laid down, eventually falling into an uneasy sleep as his mind continued to mull over what had happened.

He awoke later in the night with a start. Thinking he heard something outside, he threw back the covers and made a beeline for the flap of the tent.

He was astonished to see that Buffy was still there, leaning against the rock, fast asleep, sword still in hand.

She looked miserable. Her clothes were obviously still damp, and she was shivering.

Bill hesitated for a moment before grabbing one of the blankets off the cot. Then, as quietly as he could, he walked over to her.

When he got within half a meter, her eyes snapped open, her hand tightening around her sword. Though she relaxed a little when she saw it was him, she was still wary.

He held up the blanket to show his intentions. Her eyes widened slightly in surprise. Then she nodded.

Encouraged, Bill closed the distance and handed her the blanket.

With what could only be described as a sigh of sheer bliss, she drew the blanket around her like a cocoon. With a brief look up, she muttered a thank you before her eyes fluttered shut.

Taking his cue, Bill started to turn to go back into the tent. As he did, however, he spotted something lying next to her; the apple, eaten down to the core.

Bill shook his head.

The girl confused him beyond the point of reason. Though he would never say this aloud — he did have some sense of self-preservation after all — he constantly felt a bit like he was offering a bit of meat to a hippogriff, where the beast was either going to accept the gift and become the best of chums with him, or it was going to bite his hand off and he'd be forced to spend the rest of his days learning how to cast magic with his other hand. And yet avoiding her seemed impossible, particularly in light of their current predicament. He had little choice but to make the best of the situation.

He just hoped he had all his limbs attached when all this was over with.


	7. Into the Woods

When Buffy woke the next morning, she could hardly believe her eyes.

The forest had completely transformed overnight. Gone was the land of homicidal fish. Before her now was a peaceful woodland oasis, complete with morning dew and filtered sunlight.

And yet it didn't improve her mood in the slightest.

A little sunlight wouldn't help her backache, courtesy of the rock she had slept against all night, and it definitely wouldn't fix the way her hair was plastered against her head in stringy, partially frozen mess. And all the tranquility in the world didn't change the fact that a crazy werewolf was out there, hunting her. If anything, it all just reminded her of how _little_ control she had out here.

With a grimace, Buffy began to get up, thinking that she should do a perimeter check. As she stood, however, something fluttered to the ground.

The blanket.

Buffy glanced over at the tent where Bill Weasley was presumably still sleeping and made a face.

Before last night, she had been more than happy to write the guy off. Preferred it, even. Then he had to go and mess it all up.

It wasn't just because he had saved her life, either, though that obviously won him some major brownie points. It was everything.

Last night had not been one of her finer nights. Her near drowning had shaken her more than she would ever admit; any water-related danger tended to do that, thanks to the Master. As a result, it had put her in a really bad head space.

Bill had borne the brunt of that - pretty well, all things considered. Definitely within the realm of reason, the way she had been needling him. Then he had gone one step further and gave her the stupid blanket.

On the surface, it seemed like such a small gesture. Buffy knew, however, that it was one a pettier person wouldn't have made, especially after the way she had thrown all his previous offers of help back in his face. And it was done without a single 'I told you so'.

It was time to face facts. Bill Weasley was a decent guy. She just didn't trust him.

Buffy looked down at the blanket again and sighed.

If only it hadn't been for that first run-in. Though she knew that people made mistakes, it was hard to give a second chance to him for something like that - even if he was the only help she was going to get in the foreseeable future.

Buffy shook her head. She needed to focus on one thing and one thing only; getting the hell out of Dodge. Though Greyback hadn't attacked last night, it was only a matter of time. She wanted to be as far away from the Fire Swamp as possible when that happened.

Scooping the blanket off the ground, she quickly folded it and placed it on the nearest boulder. Then she picked Winnie up and began her walk around the perimeter, which was surprisingly easy to find, thanks to Bill's shield - or more specifically, the circle of fallen leaves around it, unable to breach the invisible barrier.

Buffy had to admit, it was a fascinating feat of magic, even more so in the light of day. Knowing Bill had set it up was one thing. She had even feltit; it was the only reason she had gotten any sleep at all. But seeing it in action, even after a whole night...

It definitely gave her something to mull over as she continued her scan, too much so. By the time she had reached her original boulder, she had all sorts of crazy thoughts in her head.

Clearly, all the magic was messing with her - though not as much as nature was at the moment; as Buffy stood there, contemplating her next move, it began calling her in a very personal, very urgent way.

At first, she tried to ignore it, horrified at the thought of going in the woods. As the seconds continued to tick by - and the pressure began to build almost painfully - she knew she had no choice.

And just when she thought things couldn't get any worse.

Buffy bit her lip as she glanced toward the tent. It seemed quiet in there, and there wasn't anyone else around, so…

As quietly as she could, she dashed for the tree farthest away from the tent yet still within the barrier, because she did not need that kind of embarrassment. As it was, she was half-convinced Greyback was going to attack at that moment regardless of whether she was in circle of protection or not; it was just that kind of day. She then did her business as quickly as she could and ran back to the boulder, putting as much distance between her and the incriminating evidence.

It was a good thing she did, too. Not a minute later, Bill came out of the tent. Buffy tensed, watching him out of the corner of her eye as looked for any flinch of comprehension, any wayward glance over toward the tree, any slight sniff of air, but it never came. His eyes were on her, his smile tentative, as he walked toward her.

For once, she thanked all that was holy for his underdeveloped wolf skills.

His appearance was another thing, though. To her annoyance, he was in a set of clean clothes and his long hair was perfectly coiffed, a marked contrast to Buffy's own state. Before she could begrudge him too much, however, she noticed that he had food in his hand - or more specifically, that he was holding the food out to her.

She hadn't realized how hungry she was until that moment. This time she didn't hesitate to take it from him. She took a huge bite of apple as soon as it was in her hand.

A piece of fruit never tasted so good.

With a mouthful of apple, she looked up at Bill and said a quick thanks before she devoured the rest of it. Then she started on the bread.

Bill's mouth twitched ever so slightly before he sat down beside her so they were both facing out into the woods. "It isn't much, but hopefully it will do for now. I have some water here as well," he said, pulling a bottle of water out of his pocket for her, which she took.

For a few minutes, they ate in silence. Out of habit, Buffy kept her eyes on the horizon, continuously checking for anything suspicious.

"Is something out there?"

Buffy arched her eyebrow as she glanced at him. "I don't know. You tell me."

The words were out before she could stop them. It was like she was helpless to stop needling the guy, regardless of how nice he was to her. Whether it was because she honestly wanted to help him or if it was her passive aggressive way of getting back at him for the attempted memory assault, she didn't know.

Still, she refused to feel bad about it. It was a valid point either way - even if it was extremely hypocritical of her, considering she was just doing the dance of joy for his underdeveloped wolf abilities.

Though his eyes flashed and his whole body tensed with anger, he didn't say anything. He just looked down at the ground in front of him.

It was a full five minutes before Bill moved, taking a deep breath and slowly letting it out before he turned toward her.

"I know this probably doesn't mean much, but I truly am sorry I tried to erase your memory," he said quietly.

Buffy immediately stiffened, the air suddenly becoming heavy and awkward. She didn't know what to say, because she wasn't okay with it.

Obviously uncomfortable himself, Bill nervously continued on. "I know you aren't going to like hearing this, but it is standard practice for us, to keep our existence a secret, though admittedly it's usually done by a Ministry official."

That threw Buffy for a loop, but she recovered quickly. "State sanctioned or not, it still doesn't make it right."

Bill shrugged. "Maybe not. It wasn't meant as an excuse, just an explanation," he said cautiously.

Not wanting to continue the conversation any more, she jumped to her feet. "Ready to blow this popsicle stand?"

His brows furrowed in confusion at this, and she ruthlessly took advantage, gathering all their trash and the blanket. When she risked a glance at Bill, she saw that he hadn't moved; he just sat there, studying her with a thoughtful look on his face. It disappeared as soon as he realized she had noticed, however, and he scrambled to his feet.

"I'll take that for you," he said, nodding toward the stuff she had in her hands.

Buffy nodded stiffly and handed it over, careful not to touch him in the transfer. If he noticed, he didn't say anything. He simply took the trash and blanket and began walking back to the tent. When he was about halfway, however, he stopped and turned back.

"I, er, it isn't much, but if you need to use the loo, there's one in the tent," he said.

Buffy immediately flushed red. There was a bathroom in tent? If only she had known. Then again, without indoor plumbing, using it might have been more humiliating, even if Bill could use magic to clean it.

"Uh, no thanks," she replied tersely, hoping he would take the hint and drop it.

Thankfully, he did. Though he looked like he wanted to say something more, he turned on his heel and continued on his way.

Five minutes later, they were just about ready to go. Bill had shrunken his tent down to pocket-size and Buffy had done her best to erase all evidence that they had been there, for all the good it may or may not have done.

"You have any idea how to get out of the tenth circle of Hell?" Buffy asked as she made sure Winnie was securely attached to her back.

"Not a clue," Bill admitted.

Buffy sighed. "Well, that makes two of us. We'll just figure it out as we go along, I guess."

He nodded. "Just let me do one last clean up, bring down the wards, and we can be on our way."

He lifted his wand and muttered some words that sounded like Latin while swishing his wand in an intricate pattern.

For a split second, Buffy thought that maybe she had missed whatever was supposed to happen. Then she heard Bill's angry muttering.

It took her by surprise. Though she remembered that Bill had said something about having trouble with his wand, he had just used it to shrink the tent; or at least she assumed so. She hadn't actually seen it, as she was busy doing her own thing…

A funny but mean thought flashed across through her mind. It was too good an opportunity to pass up.

"Performance anxiety?" she taunted.

Bill's ears turning bright pink with embarrassment.

"I can assure you that has never been an issue," he said through gritted teeth.

"According to you," she said airily.

With a huff, he turned toward her.

"Merlin, woman, you have an answer for everything, don't you?" he said. When she started to reply, he held up his hand. "That was a rhetorical question. We might not ever get out of here, otherwise."

She was all set to lay into him, yet another scathing retort on her tongue, when she realized he was right. They could go back and forth all day, and it wouldn't bring them any closer to escaping.

Not willing to totally concede, Buffy settled for a scorching glare.

Amused, Bill turned back to the task at hand.

The second time was much more successful. Buffy felt the invisible barrier disappear. Less than a heartbeat later, she felt the slight breeze in the air as the leaves scattered, covering the forest floor in a more uniform pattern.

Bill looked over at her. "Ready to go?"

* * *

><p>They began their trek in relative silence, which was fine with Buffy. She needed to concentrate on her surroundings. Like any forest, there were creatures that lived in it. Though they all fled as soon as she spotted them, she wasn't taking any chances, keeping an eye on each and every on until they were out of sight, especially since, judging by their silhouettes, they weren't the average squirrel.<p>

As more time passed and she felt more comfortable picking out the sounds around her, however, her mind began to drift toward her conversation with Bill earlier that morning. One thought in particular echoed in her mind.

The Wizarding government wiped people's memories on what sounded like a routine basis.

The more she thought about it, the more it bothered her. She had so many questions, and they were all dying to get out. When they finally stopped to take a break, she couldn't hold them in any longer. The second Bill's protective shields were up, they all came spilling out.

"I need to know more about this memory erasing power of yours. Who decides when to use it? Do you use it on each other? Why isn't it considered illegal? I mean, you're messing with someone's mind against their will."

Bill blinked, obviously taken aback by the onslaught of questions, before he slowly cleared his throat.

"Muggles… don't tend to react well to seeing magic. You've seen proof of that throughout history. Therefore, whenever a Muggle has seen more than they should, the memory of what they witnessed is erased. Depending on the severity of the magic performed, the offending witch or wizard may also be punished. We have a department within the Ministry whose sole function is to handle these kinds of matters," he explained. He paused then, shifting uncomfortably for a moment before continuing. "Using Memory Charms on other wizards is… not condoned, but it is next to impossible to monitor or regulate. I would be lying if I said that no one has taken advantage of that. Still, while it's not considered an Unforgivable curse, the casting of which will assure you a cell in Azkaban, there can be serious repercussions if you're caught. And then of course there's always the moral implications-"

"Which somehow don't apply to non-magical people," she said darkly.

Bill had no response to that - or maybe he knew enough not to say anything.

Buffy closed her eyes as she pinched the bridge of her nose, trying to wrap her brain around it all.

She understood a little bit better where Bill was coming from, and Wizards obviously didn't take full advantage of their capabilities, seeing as they didn't rule the world with mindless zombies at their beck and call. But…

It was the principle of the matter. It was such a violation, an abuse of power. Besides, even if the government could use their powers 'responsibly' - and she used that word loosely - anyone could obviously do it. Bill had tried it on her, and as she finally admitted earlier, he was one of the good guys.

Then it hit her. _Bill_ had tried it on her.

Buffy's eyes snapped up to meet his.

"You've mentioned a few times that someone from your Ministry usually erases the memory. So why did you try to do it the other night?"

Bill turned slightly red at this. "Ah, yes, about that. Normally, the Ministry would be notified that magic was performed in front of a Muggle. It's my duty to report it as well, but… you see, I'm not exactly high on their list right now. They don't believe that Greyback is alive. No one does, not even my family. They don't want to believe. The Ministry would just as soon lock me up than admit it, so between me performing magic in front of a Muggle and you spouting off about looking for Greyback yourself…" he shrugged. "I thought it was in both our best interests if I took care of the matter myself."

Though he tried to pass all this off as nonchalantly as he could, Buffy could see the whole situation was a giant sore spot for him.

It made her really uncomfortable. They were no where near that level of share mode, and she didn't want to be. At the same time, she could totally sympathize. She still remembered the day she had sent Angel to Hell, how much it had hurt when her mother refused to believe that she was the Slayer, despite all evidence to the contrary…

Crap, Buffy thought to herself. She felt bad for him.

Wanting to put the brakes on that, she quickly changed the subject."Will you get in trouble for that? And will you get in trouble for telling me and my non-magical self all of this?"

Bill gave her a small smile. "You're a Vampire Slayer, which makes you exempt. Well, unless of course you try to sell the story to the gossip rags. But I get the sense you understand the importance of keeping some secrets," he said, his tone almost teasing. Then he cocked his head to the side curiously. "How do you ensure your own identity stays secret? From what I've read, the Watcher's Council very much operates under cloak and dagger."

"I- we-," Buffy started.

But she was stumped. She knew firsthand how unscrupulous the Council used to be. She had to think that they had done something as low as messing with someone's memory. They had their own version of Special Forces, for godsakes.

And now that she thought about it, while she herself had never done anything drastic to keep her identity a secret, aside from a little lie now and then, what would she be willing to do if it came down to it? Or maybe more importantly, what would she do to protect the other girls? Now that there were so many of them now, the risk of exposure increased exponentially, and it was a lot to hope that the entire world would come down with a case of Sunnydale Syndrome. And yet it was something she and the others had never discussed. It had never occurred to them.

Realizing that Bill was still waiting for an answer, Buffy shrugged. "That Council doesn't exist anymore. It's under new management now. Anyway, thanks for answering my questions. It helps me… understand. We should probably go, though. Burning daylight and all."

From the look on his face, he wasn't happy with her evasive maneuvering. He didn't argue, though. Come to think of it, he had been backing down a lot today, careful not to provoke her. She wasn't sure whether to be happy or annoyed.

* * *

><p>As they continued to trudge through the forest, Buffy came to three realizations.<p>

The first was that Bill was clearly no stranger to this kind of thing.

She supposed she shouldn't have been so surprised. According to Willow, he had survived a war. Because she had seen the way he relied on magic for everything, however, she just had assumed that, aside from having a killer bicep in right arm from all that waving, he wouldn't be up for the physical challenge. He kept step with her the entire time, though, over what was sometimes punishing terrain. And he was a quick learner, to boot. After watching the way she scoped out an area a few times, he began to do it himself. And she learned a thing or two from him when it came to flushing out magic.

All in all, werewolf suppression aside, the guy wasn't half bad out here.

Her second realization was that Bill always made sure he was on her left. She even tested her theory out a few times, finding one reason or another to switch sides. Though he tolerated it for a few minutes, he would end up back on her left soon after.

While she could have chalked up to some OCD habit, she thought it had more to do with the scars running down the left side of his face.

The third and most troubling revelation was that they had been walking for miles and miles without any clue of where they were with no foreseeable end in sight.

"I'm trying not to panic here, but we've been walking for hours and yet we're not any closer to getting out of here than we were this morning," she finally said.

"I know," Bill replied, looking equally unhappy. "Based on the flora and fauna, I think it's reasonably safe to assume we're still in Europe, but I don't know much more than that."

Buffy frowned. "Really? If that were true, wouldn't we have come across something by now, even just a trail? Europe isn't exactly uncharted territory."

He glanced over at her, his eyebrow quirked. "Its magical forests are. Hidden from Muggles as well, so they don't come across any unwelcome beasts in their travels."

Buffy stopped in her tracks, stunned by his statement. "Of course they are. I should have guessed," she groaned. Then she scowled at Bill's back as he continued to forge ahead. "Don't think I don't know you're laughing at-"

The words died in her throat as she heard something faint in the distance.

Not too surprisingly, Bill had heard nothing. When she stopped talking so suddenly, he turned toward her with a look of concern.

"Buffy, are you-"

"Shh!" she interrupted. "Listen!"

He didn't argue with her. Though he may not have heard it before, there was no way he could miss it now. There was something out there, something moving with a speed and force no normal woodland creature possessed, and it was heading straight for them.

"We need to find cover. Now."

Buffy and Bill quickly looked around for someplace to hide. Unfortunately, there were only trees in the immediate vicinity, and none of them provided much cover. The only real place to go was up.

By unspoken agreement, they both made a beeline for two large, sturdy looking pines. Unfortunately, though definitely climbable, the lowest branch was well out of Buffy's reach.

"May I?" Bill asked, holding up his wand.

Buffy dismissed his offer out of hand. "I got this."

With Bill's eyes on her, she took a dozen steps back. Then she sprinted headlong toward the tree. She waited until she was only two feet away before she jumped. Instead of aiming for the branch, however, she leapt for the trunk, planting her right foot on bark before pushing off as forcefully as she could, sending her up and away from the tree.

Arms outstretched, she grabbed onto the branch with inches to spare.

From there, it was a piece of cake. A few swings and scrambles later, and she was tucked away up in the canopy. Smugly, she looked down at Bill, who looked sufficiently impressed.

Then he waved his wand.

"_Levicorpus_."

Buffy watched with a scowl as he floated up to a branch right next to hers.

"Cheater," she muttered under her breath.

Bill smirked but he didn't say anything. He didn't have time. With a loud crash, the creature finally came into sight about a quarter mile away.

It looked like a cross between a bull and elephant on steroids. Seriously. In sheer mass alone, it was impressive. And purple. Then there was its horns, enormous golden spears sharpened to a wicked point. Buffy's eyes went wide as she watched it charge full steam ahead in their direction.

Beside her, Bill swore ripely.

"It's a Graphorn. Powerful beast with the aggression to match. Its hide is particularly thick, so magic won't be much use against it," he whispered. Then he frowned, furious with himself. "I didn't see its territorial markings anywhere. I don't how I missed them."

Because giving him a hard time was apparently becoming second nature, Buffy had a retort all set to go. This time, however, she held back. After all, it wasn't like she had seen anything, either, and she had a feeling it was pretty hard to miss anything that thing marked.

As if to prove her point, the creature began thrashing its head from side to side, taking out everything in its path as it drew closer and closer to where they were.

Buffy held her breath, hoping it would just pass them by.

It was a lost cause.

The second the Graphorn crossed the path they had been on, it stopped in its tracks and began making these weird snorting sounds as it scented the air. It quickly found what it was looking for, its eyes snapping up to where Buffy and Bill were hiding - though Buffy could've sworn it was trained only on her.

With an enraged howl, it charged.

"Oh, shi-" Buffy began to say, but she never got to finish.

She was already leaping out of the tree onto another one as fast as she could - one that was in the opposite direction of Bill.

There was a huge crack as the Graphorn made contact with the first tree, snapping it in half.

Buffy didn't have time to dwell on this. The crazy beast was already heading toward her new perch - though not before it gave a cursory glance toward Bill.

That all but confirmed her suspicions. It was after her and her alone.

She had to act fast. As long as she was up in that tree, she was a sitting duck. Her only chance was to fight.

"Stay up here and don't move," she called out to Bill as she drew her sword out of its scabbard.

This did not sit well with him. "What are you doing?"

"Ending this, one way or another," Buffy said grimly. "Stay. I mean it."

Without checking to see if he would listen, she jumped.

Her plan was to land behind the Graphorn and get the advantage. Unfortunately, she was a hair too slow. As she jumped, the creature slammed into the tree, sending her spiraling to the ground off-kilter. When she landed, she felt her knees painfully buckle underneath her as she tucked into a somersault.

She didn't have time to worry about it, though. Before she was even on her feet, the Graphorn charged at her, slashing wildly with its horns. Buffy only just managed to get her sword up in time. Even then, she wasn't prepared for its brute strength, and it tossed her easily into the trunk of a tree.

She heard Bill call out to her, but she ignored him and focused on the Graphorn, who was practically on top of her already. This time, she managed to plant her feet and leaned forward as her sword met the beast's horns once again.

The subsequent clash sent jarring vibrations racing up her arms. Still, she held fast. Her feet had less luck, though, and began to slide backward into the tree. Sadly, all the strength in the world couldn't make up for the fact that the thing seriously outweighed her.

Knowing that speed was her best weapon, she wrenched her sword to the side, sending the Graphorn's head careening to the side with the momentum. Before it could attack again, she ducked low and sliced it across its chest - not deep enough to kill or even maim, just enough to give her the chance to escape from her position pinned between the Graphorn and the tree.

At least, that was the plan.

Bill was right. The Graphorn's hide was ridiculously thick. If she had a regular sword, Buffy wasn't even sure she would have made a scratch. As it was, she barely nicked it, just enough to draw a thin line of blood.

Thankfully, it was enough. Snarling, the Graphorn reared back on its hind legs in anger, probably not used to any kind of injury, let alone from a mere human.

Buffy seized her opportunity and threw herself bodily to the left in a diving roll.

It was just in time. As she rolled away, the Graphorn drove its front paws into the ground, right where she had been seconds ago. Then, moving faster than any creature its size had a right to, it reared up again, obviously intending to smash down on her before she could get to her feet and defend herself.

It was going to be close.

"Buffy, stay down!"

Bill again. He was close by, back on the ground somewhere, and it sounded like he had a plan.

Buffy found herself wracked with indecision. It was a trust exercise with someone she didn't trust.

As she warred with herself, the decision was made for her. No sooner was she out of her roll into a crouch when a tree trunk came flying through the air and slammed into the Graphorn - who was two seconds away from crushing her like a bug.

The animal let out an enraged howl as it fell to the ground, stunned by the impact.

Buffy leapt to her feet. Though she had her sword held tightly in her hand, she didn't move any further, frozen in indecision for the second time in as many minutes.

She really didn't want to kill the thing, not unless it gave her no choice. It wasn't a demon or anything, and really, she was in its territory. As it lay there on the ground, its breath coming out in labored pants, it looked particularly pitiful.

Making up her mind, Buffy slowly backed away. Sure, she kept her sword raised - because she wasn't stupid - but she put space between them to show she wasn't a threat.

Behind her, she could hear that Bill was also moving, slowly inching toward her until he was standing next to her. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw that he was following her lead; his wand was extended, but he didn't do anything to provoke the creature.

For a long moment, the Graphorn didn't move, its eyes moving skittishly from Buffy to Bill. It wasn't until it was sure they weren't going to attack that it leapt to its feet. From the way it began staggering from side to side, it was obviously still reeling from the blow it took. Then, in full fight or flight mode, it turned tail and ran, stumbling in the direction it had originally come from.

"You are insane. You know that, right?"

Buffy turned and made a face at Bill. "I had to do something. Besides, I was under the impression you would be useless."

It was practically the same words she had hurled at him the other night. This time there was no heat to her words, though. From the look on his face, Bill knew it, too.

"I said that magic wouldn't work on the Graphorn. That doesn't mean I can't use magic around it," he explained, obviously pleased with himself.

Buffy rolled her eyes. She chose to survey the wreckage around her rather than dignify his smugness with a response. Of course, as soon as she did, she realized that she hadn't thanked him for his help - even though she wasn't convinced that she had needed it.

Feeling more than a little awkward, she turned toward him. "Listen, Bill, I-"

"Hey, where do you suppose this came from?" he interrupted, picking something up from the ground.

It was a shredded piece of pink fabric, one fashioned in a cable knit pattern.

Buffy blinked. She recognized it immediately. It was, after all, one of her favorite patrolling sweaters. She had packed in her bag the previous night, before she had lost it.

"That's mine," she said tersely, her mind racing as she tried to make sense of it all. There was no way it could be here, unless… "We need to follow that Graphorn."

Bill understood immediately. "I realize I may be stating the obvious here, but this is could be a trap."

"'I always think everything is a trap, which is why I'm still alive,'" she quipped. When she received a confused look, she sighed. "I know. But what choice do we have? Are you going to pass up this chance?"

Bill gave a grim smile. "Of course not. I just thought it should be said. Let's go."

The trail was easy enough to follow; it was hard to miss the wreckage. Finding the Graphorn was another story. Even wounded, the thing moved with incredible speed, not to mention it had a head start.

They, on the other hand, had to move very slowly, continually peering around every corner - so to speak - to make sure the coast was clear before proceeding. The only saving grace was that, between spending the whole day hiking through the forest together and good old fashioned adrenaline, Buffy and Bill managed to develop a pretty good system between the two of them.

They were just about a mile in when the most horrific sound rent the air. It was the same noise the Graphorn had made when it had first spotted Buffy, with one important difference. This time, it had an overwhelming tone of pain and suffering.

It sounded like an animal dying.

With saying a word, Buffy and Bill picked up their pace as much as they could. Still, it took too long. By the time they reached the Graphorn, it felt like a lifetime had passed them by. For the Graphorn, it had, and then some.

As Buffy surveyed the carnage, she vowed then and there to do whatever it took to stop Greyback.

For there, less than twenty feet away was a dead baby Graphorn. It had huge chunks missing from it, obviously eaten. Judging by the amount that was gone, it had been dead for awhile. Scattered around it were the remnants of her backpack.

Not far away from it was the Graphorn she had fought; the mother. It, too, was dead. Though she couldn't see any bite marks, it obviously hadn't met a peaceful end, either. It was completely gutted, ripped open from sternum to tail.

As if that wasn't bad enough, its guts were splayed out on the ground in a very purposeful way.

It was a message, one written just for her.

_WHO ARE YOU_

* * *

><p>AN: Sorry if this chapter was a bit long! I know I myself start to get cross-eyed after I read 4K words in one chapter, but I had a lot of story I needed to tell here.


	8. Out of Frying Pan, Into Dragon Fire

Bill stared down at the dead Graphorns. The poor beasts had been nothing more than pawns in Greyback's plan; once they served their purpose, they were no longer of any use.

And yet, Bill had to wonder, how had Greyback pulled it off? Graphorns were ferocious creatures. Though it looked as though the cut from Buffy's sword may have provided a chink in the armor - one that was brutally exploited by werewolf claws - it still would have taken an enormous feat of strength and precision to kill the mother, not to mention a fair bit of luck.

"We need to get out of here. Now."

Buffy's voice was barely above a whisper, but Bill heard it loud and clear, snapping him from his own train of thought.

It was a good thing, too. He had been so focused on the Graphorns, he hadn't noticed the shift in the air, the way it had suddenly become heavy and foul with magic and… something else he couldn't quite put his finger on.

Apparently, it was a trap after all.

Part of Bill wanted to stay and fight, but deep down he knew that wasn't possible. They had to be smart. Greyback was dictating far too many terms for his liking - Merlin only knew what they had just stepped into - and Bill was done playing into the bastard's hand, particularly in light of his apparent interest in Buffy.

Buffy was right; they needed to leave, right away. The only question was how.

Running was an option, of course, but it wasn't a very good one, all things considered. Other than that, their only real choice was Apparating.

Before that very moment, Bill would have dismissed the idea outright. Throughout the course of the day, however, something had changed. As they had hiked, he had begun stretching his senses, exactly as Buffy had been badgering him to do, out of sheer necessity. Though it was incredibly difficult - he was pants at it, really, learning more from observing Buffy than his own pathetic abilities - he had _tried_, and as a result, he felt more focused than he had in months. What's more, he and his wand were suddenly along marvelously, their connection only growing stronger with every spell he cast.

He knew in his bones that he could Apparate them to someplace safe - as long as Greyback hadn't cast an Anti-Disapparition Jinx. It was worth a shot, at the very least. That kind of spell could be tricky outdoors with no natural barriers or boundaries, and for what Greyback had in power he lacked in finesse. Bill just needed to do it quickly without detection.

Under the guise of comforting her, he put his arm around Buffy. If it bothered her, she didn't show it. Encouraged, he leaned down toward her ear.

"I can get us out, but you have to trust me."

Buffy hesitated for the briefest moment, her gaze flickering down to his wand, before giving the smallest nod.

That was good enough for him. In one smooth movement, he slid his hand from her arm to her waist and spun on his heel for all he was worth.

To his great relief, it worked. The forest in front of him vanished; a moment later, they were at the edge of the lake, the one they had fallen into the previous night. It was as far as he dared take them, still having no idea where they were.

Beside him, he heard Buffy gasp. Bill immediately released her from his grasp; or at least he tried to. Though she was handling her first Side-Along Apparition remarkably well, there was no disguising the death grip she had on his shirt, or the way she leaned heavily on him for support.

It was a full beat before she was steady enough on her feet to let go, giving him an incredulous look as she moved away.

"_That_ is how you guys travel?"

"You get used to it," he replied.

Buffy scoffed at him. "I'll take your word for it."

Bill shook his head. Now that he had Apparition back in his arsenal, he had a plan. "You'll have to do more than that. I can only Apparate us to places I know or see. Greyback knows that. This will be one of the first places he looks. We need to move, immediately, first to the other side of the lake, and then small jumps from there. It's the only way to keep him off our scent."

Clearly, defeat was not an easy concept for her. Buffy looked as though she were going to argue. In the end, however, she simply sighed, knowing he was right. "Alright, beam me up, Scotty."

Bill must have been getting better at decoding the peculiar way she spoke. Though there were still some parts that were lost on him - and probably always would be - he understood the gist of what she was saying. Consequently, whe held out his hand, he knew she would take it - which made it all the more surprising when she pulled back a moment later.

"Wait, I thought you said that your wand doesn't like you."

Bill was not ready to explain it all to her, nor did they have the time, so he simply said, "We've come to an understanding."

Buffy scowled; the look was not aimed at him, however, but at his wand. He distinctly heard her mutter "Traitor" as she took his hand again.

But take it she did. Bill felt inordinately pleased by this; of course, it was soon tempered by the crushing grip she had on his hand, the only sign of nervousness in her otherwise calm appearance.

"Right then," he murmured, doing his damnedest not to outwardly wince. "Let's get this over with."

With that, they were off.

As promised, Bill set his sights on the opposite shore of the lake. From there, a little clearing on a hill. On and on, they made little jumps like that. Sometimes they had to walk a bit until Bill could get a clear visual of the place they would Apparate to. The entire process left them exposed for a stretch, but it was better than having him Apparate them into a tree.

They traveled like that until night fell and it was too dark to continue. It was just as well. By that point, Bill was completely knackered, and Buffy was as green as gillyweed.

* * *

><p>They didn't set up the tent that night, save to grab some food and use the loo, both agreeing that they needed to be prepared to leave at a moment's notice. Instead, they sat with their backs against a tree on opposite sides so that they had a 360 degree view of their surroundings; Buffy with her sword in her hand, and Bill with his wand in his.<p>

At first, Bill vigilantly stared into the darkness, looking for the slightest indication Greyback was near. As the night wore on, however, he found himself glancing down at his wand more and more.

It was a curious thing. Ebony with a dragon heartstring core.

When Ollivander had first brought it out of the stacks, Bill had been resentful. Though he was far from being any kind of expert in wandlore, he knew enough about both the wood and wand core to know he wanted nothing to do with either.

Dragon heartstring was notoriously temperamental, which was the last thing he needed. As for the ebony… Though Ollivander stressed that that particular wood matched those who were steadfast in purpose, Bill knew that wasn't the whole story. It was also for those strong in intuition and emotion - and for those who had the courage to be themselves, despite the cost.

It was like a punch to the gut.

It affirmed everything Buffy had been telling him, as if somehow, she knew him better than he knew himself. Hell, it meant that even that old goat Ollivander knew. And it annoyed the shite out of him, particularly because they were right.

Thus, he had been purposefully ignoring it ever since then. Now, however, he couldn't help but give it a good look over; for now, after the day's revelations, he could finally admit that he needed to embrace who he was if he ever wanted to stop Greyback.

The harder part was to accept what would come after that.

* * *

><p>Morning came far too quickly for Bill. Though they had taken shifts sleeping throughout the night, he was still exhausted. He was also starving. He wasn't used to eating so little, particularly not for such an extended time. Yet his stores were running low, which meant their meals were becoming smaller and smaller.<p>

It was suffice to say that he was not the best company that morning, and because of that, he didn't immediately recognize the signs that Buffy was in distress. Instead, he watched with a growl in his throat as she flitted about, seemingly unaffected by the lack of food or sleep. Only when she became practically manic in her movements as they prepared to leave did he realize what was going on.

"Buffy," he said quietly, the sound of his voice stopping her in her tracks. "Apparating is safest way for us to travel right now."

She took a deep breath before turning to look at him. "I know, but… it feels like I can't breathe, or move. It… it feels like I'm suffocating," she admitted. Then, perhaps feeling like she'd said more than she intended, she added, "And not to question a good thing or anything, but what's changed between you and your wand? You said you've come to an understanding, but what the heck does that mean? Did you give it a stern talking to?"

Her eyes glinted with humor at this last part. Bill was fairly certain she was envisioning him scolding what to her was nothing but a stick of wood.

Bill made a face, both to convey his opinion of her joke and to buy himself some time as he tried to decide how to respond.

If he answered completely and honestly, he would open himself up to her scrutiny once again. A glib retort would be a disservice to her, however, particularly when she was clearly feeling a little raw from her own admission.

He had no choice. It was time to come clean.

"It appears my wand agrees with you. I can't just rely on being a Wizard," he admitted. "The more I open myself to… other abilities, the more it behaves."

She was clearly taken aback by this. She recovered quickly, though, as she digested what exactly he was - and was not - saying.

"But you don't like it, do you?" she asked, quite perceptively. When he shook his head, she bit her lip, a pensive look on her face. "At the risk of winning Broken Record of the Year, you really shouldn't deny it. It's a part of you, whether you like it or not. The more you fight it, the more you'll be hurting."

Bill nodded. "Part of me knows you're right, but… you don't understand," he said. "Being a werewolf, it changes you, makes you someone different than who you were, until those you love most recoil from you in fear and disgust, until no one will hire you or allow you to patronize their establishments and you're subject to certain Ministry regulations - until you're essentially shunned from society."

Buffy's jaw dropped at this. "But that's discrimination!" she exclaimed.

When Bill just shrugged, her anger turned to full-blown outrage.

"That's the stupidest thing I ever heard of! I mean, sure, for three days of the month, you want to make sure a werewolf won't hurt anyone, but they're still people, too! Don't you have any laws for this, or say, a Civils Rights Movement? I mean, seriously, this is the twenty first century, and you're _wizards_. With _magic_. I would think you of all people would be accepting of the supernatural. How is this okay? And if you're scared of werewolves, is marginalizing them to the point of persecution really your best move?"

Bill held his hands up in surrender. "You'll get no arguments from me. I agree with everything you've said and then some, even before it became a cause near and dear to my heart."

Buffy winced, seemingly embarrassed by her outburst. "I'm sorry. I didn't know. I mean, I still don't agree with you, but I won't pretend that I know how hard this all must be for you…"

She trailed off, but he could see the storm brewing behind her eyes, like she was planning to take on the entire Ministry to fix this injustice.

Despite himself, despite the entire situation, Bill chuckled. "You'd get along smashingly with my sister-in-law. She works tirelessly for the rights of all magical beings," he said. Then he gave a small shudder. "Though the thought of you working together when you've set your minds to something is mildly terrifying."

Buffy smothered a smile. Her curiosity wasn't as easily contained. "You have a sister-in-law?" she asked cautiously.

It was the first time either of them had broached the topic of family, and they both entered the subject carefully.

"Three, actually, plus one brother-in-law," Bill said after a beat.

"You're one of _five_?" she blurted out.

"One of seven. And the oldest, to boot."

He flinched at the thought of Fred, a wound still painful to his whole family. If Buffy saw it, she chose not to acknowledge it, for which he was grateful.

"Six siblings, huh?" she asked. "How did you survive? I only have one sister, and I'm still not sure how we made it through the teenage years without killing each other."

"My mother," he admitted. "Though we took the mick out of each other, there was a line we never crossed - because we knew she would be waiting for us on the other side of it."

Buffy laughed. "I like her already."

"She'd like you, too," he replied with a smile. It quickly turned to a grimace, however, as he realized the full implication of what he was saying. "Maybe too much."

This understandably earned a puzzled look from Buffy. Bill refused to elaborate, though. They had made a real breakthrough this morning. It would have been a shame to ruin it over his mother's insane matchmaking tendencies.

* * *

><p>They set off soon after that. Though they Apparated a handful of times, they also did a fair bit of walking in between. It gave them the opportunity to look for any recognizable landmarks. It also gave Buffy the opportunity to play a less than delightful game of 'Guess the noise in the forest'.<p>

Subtle, she was not.

It was useful, though, as were her tips on how not to overthink it, to just allow himself to tap into his senses and listen to what they were telling him.

It was his Wizarding knowledge, however, that gave them their first real break.

As he scouted for the next Apparition destination, he spotted something on a ridge; the faintest ring of black marks on the solid rock face.

Scorch marks.

He quickly got Buffy's attention and pointed to the ridge.

"I think those marks are from a dragon, though I'd need a closer look to be certain," he said excitedly.

Buffy's eyes widened. "And we're happy about this because…"

"Because wild dragons are almost unheard of. On the whole, they live on reserves, both for their own safety and the safety of Muggles. Those that do manage to escape detection live in very specific areas, according to breed."

"So we identify the dragon, we identify where the world we are," she finished, excitement taking hold of her as well.

Bill nodded. "Or at least narrow it down. Of course, it's a lot simpler than it sounds. We first need to find the dragon. I'd reckon that the actual nest isn't up there. It's probably just a perch the dragon used - only once or twice, judging by the limited number of scorch marks. But it may point us in the right direction."

"And that's why it pays to hang with the smart kids," Buffy said, beaming up at him.

Bill blinked at the unexpected compliment. Perhaps because if that, he felt it his duty to be truthful. "Actually, most of this out here is basic Care of Magical Creatures. Everyone learns it in school."

She didn't look convinced. "Supposedly, I learned all about the anatomy of a frog, but it's all organ soup to me."

He shrugged modestly. "It helps that my brother's a dragon tamer. Eats, sleeps, dreams and natters on incessantly about them. After awhile, some of that information was bound to rub off," he said. "Though he deserves a bottle of Ogden's after this."

He looked back up at the ridge. It was an easy enough Apparition leap. As he reached for Buffy's hand, however, she held back.

Bill looked at her questioningly. Perhaps they hadn't come as far as he had thought.

"You do realize that we'll be completely exposed up there. If you haven't noticed, this mountain is in a valley. We'll be visible for miles," she pointed out.

She was right. Bill looked back up. It couldn't be helped, though.

"Then we'd better be as quick as we can."

Buffy sighed. "I know. Just thought it was my turn to point out the obvious."

With that, she held out her hand. He took hold, and one small _pop_, they were on the ridge.

The view was breathtaking, rolling valleys between tall mountains. It would be the perfect spot for a dragon to search for prey.

Knowing that time was not on their side, Bill quickly inspected the marks. Between the circular pattern and the remnants of burnt scrub grass, it did not take much to determine they were from a dragon.

"A dragon was definitely here," he confirmed. "Do you see any signs of scorch marks out there? Dragons tend to be territorial."

Buffy stood on the edge of the cliff and peered out into the valley.

"No, I don't," she said, clearly disappointed. She brightened a moment later, though. "Look, this shelf we're on, it looks like it extends around the corner. Maybe we can see something from the other side."

Bill looked toward the left. Sure enough, the ledge wrapped around the corner. Together, he and Buffy quickly went over to the edge.

His heart fell when he saw what was on the other side. While there certainly was some sort of ledge, it was far too narrow to Apparate to. It barely looked like it could support one foot, let alone four; a miscalculation of the merest centimeter would send them toppling over. If that wasn't discouraging enough, there was a good two, maybe three, metre gap from where they were standing to the next foothold.

He should have known that wouldn't deter Buffy.

Before he knew what was happened, she said, "Be back in five," and leapt.

Her arc through the air was… well, it could almost be described as beautiful; in fact, he's quite sure he would've considered it breathtaking, if he hadn't been focused on what the hell he would do if she missed. With the grace of a fairy, she managed to alight on the tiny perch without so much as a wobble.

From there, it seemed like child's play to her, half-walking, half-climbing her way around the rock face, only stopping to look out across the landscape for some clues, until she was out of sight.

Bill anxiously waited for her. As the minutes ticked by, however, it became unbearable. A thousand different scenarios floated through his mind, and none of them ended well.

He was just about to attempt to float himself across the gap when she reappeared, a huge grin on her face.

Though he was dying of curiosity, he didn't dare say a word until she was standing safely next to him.

"Well, did you find any scorch marks?"

"Better," she declared. "I think I found its nest."

* * *

><p>After a long trek through the valley on the other side of the mountain, they found the nest. To Bill's delight, the beast was inside, fast asleep. Buffy, however, did not share his enthusiasm, despite the fact that he had already explained that dragons entered long slumbers, during which they were notoriously difficult to wake.<p>

"This is has got to be one of the stupidest things I've ever done."

Bill swallowed his laughter. "Somehow I highly doubt that," he teased.

That earned him a glare, so he tried a different tack. "Look, I know it's a lot to take on faith, but this really should be simple."

Instead of mollifying her, this only made her become even more agitated. "Exactly. It's too easy, which means it will blow up in our faces faster than you can say 'Dragon Whisperer'. And somehow, I don't think stop, drop, and roll is going to help us here."

There was no doubt about it; he was definitely getting the hang of her speech mannerisms.

Before he could respond to her pessimism, however, she put her fingers to her lips in a shushing motion - as if his hushed words were going to be thing to set the dragon off - and then beckoned him to follow her.

Bill rolled his eyes in exasperation but said nothing. He'd let her win - this time. She would soon discover that she wasn't the only one with a compulsive need for the last word, though.

Slowly, they made their way to the cave, carefully navigating their way through the trees and brush. Though the vegetation was dense in the beginning, it dramatically decreased as they drew closer. When they were approximately ten metres away, there was absolutely nothing, save a rock or two, and the ground was noticeably black, which is how Buffy had spotted the nest in the first place. At five metres, they could feel the heat emanating from the cave.

Suddenly, Buffy stiffened.

"Did you hear that?" she whispered.

"Hmm?" Bill said.

He was vaguely aware that she had stopped walking next to him, but he was distracted by the sliver of claw he saw sticking out of the cave. If he could just see a bit further…

"Bill!" Buffy exclaimed in an urgent whisper, one that demanded his immediate attention.

Bill whirled around just in time to see a bright white jet of light careening toward him. He quickly raised his wand, ready to cast a Shield Charm, when Buffy jumped right in front of him, preventing him from completely the spell.

She either didn't realize he could deflect the attack or didn't think he could do it quickly enough. The outcome was still the same.

Bill watched in horror as the spell hit her square in the chest.

The force of the magic sent Buffy slamming into him, and they both fell to the ground. Before Bill could fully feel the pain of impact, he was scrambling over to Buffy, who was awake but dazed.

His first instinct was to Apparate somewhere else, at least where they could have some natural cover. He quickly discovered that Greyback was more prepared this time when his attempt was blocked.

Bill could have attempted to create a portkey, but he was extremely reluctant to do so. Portkeys were highly advanced magic and required a great deal of power. Many wizards didn't even know how to do it, and the Ministry preferred it that way. Bill only knew because all members of the Order had been taught, for obvious reasons. Therefore, while he and his wand were getting along splendidly now, he wasn't ready to bet a portkey on it, particularly when Buffy was already cursed with Merlin knew what.

With no other choice, Bill pulled Buffy over toward what little shelter they could find behind a large boulder before he began frantically looking for clues as to what curse had hit her. He had never seen a white light like that before, and he feared the worst.

His fears were confirmed a moment later when he finally got a good look at her - and the cuts that now riddled her body, seeping her clothing with blood.

Sectumsempra. The curse that had cost George his ear. Bill had never personally seen it, but he had heard enough about it to recognize it. They all had, after the accident, as a precaution.

It was a good thing, too. The curse was as serious as it got. He knew he needed to mend the wounds and get the bleeding under control, or else she'd be done for.

And yet, as Bill prepared to cast the paltry healing spells he knew, it struck him that Buffy's injuries weren't nearly as severe as they should have been. Where there were tiny cuts, there should have been gaping wounds.

He looked at Buffy in astonishment, who was already starting to sit up. "But how- what happened?"

She gave a grim smile as she held up her sword, which almost seemed to glow with an eerie light. "Winnie blocked it. You don't think I'd let it hit me, did you?"

Her reply had a thousand questions racing through Bill's head, but it was not the time to try and answer them.

When she held her hand out, Bill obliged, pulling her to a crouched position behind the rock.

To both their dismay, she swayed and fell almost immediately.

"It's not the cuts," she quickly reassured him. "I feel… funny, like I just drank 10 Red Bulls. Maybe you could zap us to a more strategic, less exposed place until I get defuzzified?"

Bill shook his head grimly. "Can't. He's blocking my attempts to Apparate."

Buffy sighed. "Ass kicking it is, then."

It was a bold statement from her, considering the fact that she was getting noticeably glassy-eyed. He had no time to worry about this, however. No sooner had the words left her mouth than another curse came racing toward them.

Bill quickly raised his wand.

"_Protego_!"

The spell - this one red - bounced harmlessly off his shield.

Greyback was far from done, however. It was merely the opening salvo. Before Bill could so much as take a breath, the battle commenced in earnest, with curses suddenly coming at such a rate, he could do little else but block.

It was an odd fight really, one that was mostly silent. Greyback was staying within the protection of the outer trees. He was moving in so many different directions, Bill could never pinpoint where he was; he only heard the slight rustle of movement and the murmur of a spell.

It was an effective tactic. Greyback was keeping them pinned between the boulder and the cave - that is, until a particularly vicious Bombarda got through Bill's shield charm and hit their boulder, reducing it to rubble.

Bill and Buffy were forced to move to one of the few trees standing on the near side of the cave.

They both knew it was only a temporary solution. Greyback would soon blast his way through that as well. And Buffy… well, she was flushed and shaking with barely a grip on her sword.

Bill was running out of options, and he knew it. He was just about to throw caution to the wind and create the damn portkey when she spoke.

"Wake the dragon up."

Bill spared a glance down at her, completely astonished by her suggestion. "What?"

She rolled her eyes, which sent her head reeling back, thanks to her current condition. "Wake the dragon, let him rampage, and maybe in all the confusion, we can escape. If we're really lucky, we'll actually see the dragon before it goes postal and finally figure out where the heck we are."

It was insane; there so many ways it could wrong.

It was also bloody brilliant.

"On my mark, run behind the cave," he said. She nodded. As soon as he blocked the next curse, he stood. "Now!"

As Buffy moved away as best she could, using the trees for cover, Bill stood and faced the cave, his wand out at the ready.

"_Reducto_!"

He had been prepared to send another spell after the first; but there was no need. The jet of blue light that blasted from his wand was incredibly powerful. As it hit the wall, pieces of rock flew every which way, shaking the very cave itself.

There was a moment of silence; then a deafening roar, followed by a stream of blue flame that issued from the cave entrance a good fifteen metres.

The unlucky trees with the flame's reach instantly disintegrated into ash.

_Blue flames, blue flames_, Bill wracked his brains, trying to recall all he knew about the different dragon species.

The answer came to him with a jolt. He turned toward Buffy in shock.

Could they be in-

Before he could finish his thought, the dragon burst out of the cave with such incredible force that it demolished the entire front entryway. Already weakened by the Reductor Spell, the wall in front of Bill shattered.

Bill found himself hurtling forward face first, his wand wrenched from his hand from the force. Though his body jolted with pain when he hit the ground yet again, he resolutely ignored it, trying to put as much distance between him and the dragon as possible, while keeping an eye on the beast in his periphery.

That was when he saw it. The gorgeous shimmery blue scales.

It was Swedish Short-Snout, just as he had suspected. It was also going ballistic, scorching the area around it indiscriminately - and with any luck, giving Greyback what for - but it was only a matter of time before it found them.

As he scrambled to his feet, he heard Buffy call out to him.

"Bill!"

Bill turned toward her, and to his immense relief, saw that she had found his wand. He watched as she quickly scooped it up. Before she could give it to him, though, she must have heard a noise behind her, because she whipped around, perhaps instinctively holding his wand up.

The white ball of light that emanated from his wand was astounding. It pulsed for a moment before it let out a thunderous boom, sending waves of light bursting through the forest. Bill felt a shudder of magic run through him when it washed over him, sending him flying into the remnants of the wall.

For Buffy, the impact was far worse. She was flung like a rag doll into the air, landing only a metre or so away from Bill. And she wasn't moving.

Bill crawled over to her. He felt his heart beat again when he saw that she was still breathing.

Unfortunately, her light show had finally gotten the attention of the dragon, and it charged toward them, the fire building in its belly.

As it prepared to let loose its flame, Bill knew what he had to do.

It was incredibly risky. There was a chance that they weren't in fact in Sweden. There was also a chance he would get it wrong; Sweden to England was a long, difficult jump. He had no choice, though.

He pointed his wand at a small branch lying on the ground and concentrated, blocking out the sounds of the dragon as it let loose its flame, the way Buffy looked so small and fragile on the ground. He focused on the magic flowing through his wand and the destination in his mind - the safest place he knew, a place he could find in his sleep.

_Portus_.

The stick instantly glowed blue. Bill scooped Buffy up in his arms with what little strength he had left and grabbed hold of it. As the blue flames raced toward them, the portkey glowed even more brightly and Bill felt the tug familiar behind his navel. Just as the heat began to lick at their skin, the portkey activated and they were gone.

He only prayed it worked.

* * *

><p>AN: Again, thank you for all the reviews, favorites, and follows! They are food for the muse's soul. :)


	9. Meet the Weasleys

Buffy felt like her head had been stuffed with cotton - cotton that was then soaked in gasoline and set on fire. She was also lying in Bill Weasley's bed, if the picture of him and who she guessed were his brothers were anything to go by. Even more disturbing, some of his brothers in said picture were waving and winking at her. But hey, she was clearly no longer trapped in Dante's tenth circle, so she was going to consider it a win. She would worry about the rest later, when it didn't feel like a ticker tape parade was making its way through her head. For now, she would concentrate on the warm, cozy feeling that was emanating from the blankets around her.

Content in her delirium, Buffy began to drift off - until she heard voices just outside the door. Though it was a struggle, she fought off sleep so she could listen to what they were saying.

"What do you mean, you don't have time to explain? After weeks of not hearing from you, you show up on the doorstep with a girl half-dead in your arms. You will _make_ the time, Bill!" a woman's voice said, shrill with anger.

"But George and Angelina-"

"Should be here shortly," the woman cut in. "They thought it best to drop Fred and Roxanne at her father's. And since there's nothing more we can do until then, as you insist a move to St. Mungo's would be too dangerous for her, you have _plenty_ of time."

Buffy heard Bill heave a sigh. "Alright, Mum, though I'm sure Hermione has told you-"

"She most certainly has though I don't know what were you thinking, burdening a woman in her condition with something like that. I'll have you know that she's been paralyzed with worry-"

There was a snort of laughter. "'Paralyzed'? We are talking about the same Hermione, aren't we?"

"William Arthur Weasley!" his mother shrieked. "That's not the point, and you know it!"

Another voice chimed in, a man's voice, who spoke in a much calmer, gentler tone. "Bill, try to imagine our position."

"I know, Dad. I'm sorry. It's just… Look, it's complicated. I'm still not exactly sure what happened myself. It shouldn't be possible, not when Buffy isn't even a witch-"

"What? She isn't?"

She heard Bill clear his throat uncomfortably. "Er, Hermione didn't mention that part? She's… well, she's a Vampire Slayer, and-"

There was an audible gasp. "A Vampire Slayer? Bill, what have you _done_?"

"_Nothing_, Mum… for the most part anyway. And… was that the Floo? They must be here."

"Don't think you've gotten out of this, Bill. A Vampire Slayer! You're just lucky there's a Healer in the family…"

The voices trailed off as they moved away from the door. Buffy was out two seconds later.

* * *

><p>The next time Buffy woke, her headache was still firmly in place and she had zero energy. She no longer felt like she was on another planet, however.<p>

She decided to use her newly restored lucidity to take a look around the room. She tried to, anyway. It was tough to see anything from her prone position. There also wasn't much to see. Though the bed she was in was big - a king, with dark blue bedding that was so soft, she felt like she was on a cloud - the room itself was small and sparse. In fact, aside from two small windows on the far side of the room, beyond which she could just make out the sunset, there was nothing there except two sets of drawers and a few nightstands.

And, of course, Bill.

He was sitting in a chair next to her bed, dozing in what looked like a very uncomfortable position, with deep worry lines marring his face, even in sleep.

Buffy debated whether or not to wake him up. On the one hand, he probably needed the sleep. On the other hand, he probably needed the sleep in a nice, comfy bed.

As she stared at him, trying to figure out what to do, a flicker of movement caught her eye. It was coming from the nightstand next to Bill.

Squinting, she peered over at it. At first, she just saw Winnie lying on top, back to her normal, non-glowing self. Then she saw it; a photo just behind her sword. It was the same one she had seen before. The only difference was that the people in it weren't waving at her anymore. Now they were flying around on brooms, batting a ball back and forth between them.

Buffy gasped in surprise. Loudly.

Bill woke with a jolt, his chair scraping loudly against the floor with the sudden motion. Before he was fully awake, his eyes were seeking Buffy, obviously alarmed that something was wrong. When he saw that she was fine, the worry lines disappeared, replaced by a look of immense relief.

"Buffy," he said. "You had me worried for awhile there."

Feeling a little too vulnerable lying down, particularly because she just realized that she was out of her dirty, grimy clothes and in a fresh t-shirt and shorts set that fit her surprisingly well, Buffy sat up to reply. As soon as she tried to push herself up, however, fireworks exploded in her head, forcing her back down, her eyes squeezed shut.

"Ow," she groaned. "I am _never_ touching your wand again."

"Words no man ever wants to hear," a solemn voice from the doorway said. "Bad luck, Bi- ow! _Ow_, you git! Do you want my help or not?"

Her curiosity stronger than her pain, Buffy cracked her eye open.

Bill was still by her side, but his wand was out and he was scowling at the new person in the room, who was rubbing his arm as he stood at the foot of the bed.

The guy had to be one of the brothers. The resemblance was definitely there, even beyond the red hair. The glare he was giving Bill was even the same. In fact, the only major difference was that, while he obviously didn't have the scars on his face like Bill, he was missing an ear.

Feeling like this was not the time to be caught lying down, Buffy gingerly pushed herself up to sitting.

The slight movement caught the brother's attention, and he turned toward her with a friendly grin.

"Hullo, there," he said cheerily. "You must be Buffy. I'm George, Bill's younger and infinitely more dashing brother, at your service."

As he spoke, he gestured toward the cuts on Buffy's arm.

"So you're a… Healer?" she asked, struggling to remember the word she had heard before.

George snorted in derision. "Hardly. My line of work tends to cause injuries, not heal them. As you can see, my few attempts at it have been rather pathetic," he said, pointing to his missing ear. "But I'm the best they could get in a pinch, so… tell me where it hurts."

Buffy felt her jaw drop as he began to walk toward her. He caught her so off-guard, she didn't know what to say at first.

Thankfully, she didn't have to. Before she could even muster a 'hell no', Bill stepped in, his wand outstretched. At that same moment, a woman appeared in the doorway.

She was tall and athletic-looking, with skin the color of chocolate, probably only a few years older than Buffy - and she was glaring daggers at the two men.

"George, stop teasing the poor girl. And Bill, there are no hexes allowed in my patient's room," she said sharply. Her fierce expression eased as she looked at Buffy. "Weasley men can be incorrigible at times, my husband the worst of the lot. I'm Angelina. Sorry for the intrusion, but we heard the noise and thought you might be awake."

Buffy looked at her cautiously. "So… _you're_ the Healer?"

Angelina nodded. "It's pretty much a necessity, married to this one here," she said, gesturing to George. Despite her words, there was no mistaking the love in her eyes as she glanced at her husband, or the way he returned it. She was all business a second later, though, as she looked Buffy over with a critical eye. "So, how are you feeling?"

Buffy hesitated. Healer or not, she wasn't quite ready for full disclosure. Besides, she was fine. She felt just like she had after the Enjoining Spell - the last time she had channeled magic through her. She was tired, but really none worse for wear, and she could see that her cuts were already starting to heal. She just needed some R&R - after which she would pay Nora a visit and find out what else the witch neglected to tell her about her gifts.

"Headache, tired, nothing major," she said, deciding to downplay it all.

For some reason, this elicited a frown from Angelina.

"Did you feel any of that when you were cursed?" she asked her husband.

George shook his head. "Granted, my focus was on the searing pain and immense blood loss from the side of my head," he said lightly, which _almost_ covered the tightness in his shoulders as he spoke. "I also had one amputation instead of dozens of cuts, so there's that. Even afterward, though, I never felt any of those."

Suddenly Buffy understood why George was there, aside from the family connections. Whatever spell she had been hit with, he had been, too, and it was serious stuff.

Though the others were still talking, she let their voices fade into the background as she looked between the two brothers, wondering what exactly they had been through. It definitely gave her something to think about.

"Bill's already told us what he saw, as well as who you are-"

That got Buffy's attention, and not in a good way.

"So you're fast and loose with other people's secrets, I see," she said, her tone a little sharper than she intended.

George and Angelina tensed, but Bill just gazed at her unflinchingly. "When it's necessary to get them the help they need with as little magical interference as possible, yes."

Buffy made a face. What else could she do? He had her, and they both knew it.

There were no flies on him, that was for sure. Modesty was apparently no where to be found, either. Even though he had clearly won the battle, he couldn't just leave it there.

"So… does this mean that I'm _right_?"

Of course, that didn't mean she was going to let him get away with it.

"How about I just take back all the bad things I've said about you, and we'll call it even?" she suggested.

Bill raised his eyebrow at this. "'All'? I don't recall there being that many."

She made sure she gave him her sweetest, most syrupy smile. "Not out _loud_."

This elicited a bark of laughter from him. "Fair enough," he chuckled.

Satisfied, Buffy turned back to George and Angelina, who had been watching their back and forth with avid fascination.

"I like you," George declared.

Buffy narrowed her eyes. She hadn't forgotten his little stunt, either. He obviously liked to dish it out; it was time to see if he could take it.

"I have four words for you," she said, deadly serious. "Vengeance. Will. Be. _Mine_."

George's jaw dropped. From the way he stared at her, she could tell that he wasn't sure whether to believe her or not. Admittedly, she probably didn't cut an intimidating figure, looking like a bedraggled rat in borrowed pajamas.

It was Bill who tipped the scale.

"I'd take her serious, mate. She took on a Graphorn singlehandedly. One of my Stunners, too, without so much as a headache."

Buffy took great satisfaction in the way that George blanched.

Because his attention was focused on her, he missed Bill's conspiratorial look at her. Angelina didn't, though; swallowing her own smile, she made an effort to get the conversation back on track.

"As I was saying," she said loudly. "We know what Bill saw last night, but would you mind telling us what happened?"

"Last night?" Buffy said faintly.

It had been daylight when they had woken the dragon. She had assumed it was the same day, not 24 hours later.

Maybe she wasn't as fine as she had thought.

Alarmed by her reaction, Angelina looked at Bill. "We may need St. Mungo's, after all."

That name sounded familiar to Buffy. Before she could place it, Bill filled in the blank for her.

"It's a hospital," he explained.

Buffy paled. Maybe it was time to be a little more forthcoming.

As concisely as she could, she explained why she was so tired and why a trip to the hospital was not necessary. It didn't take long, but by the time she was finished, she was completely wiped out. She was only vaguely aware of Angelina shooing the men out before she was asleep again.

* * *

><p>Buffy didn't know how long she slept. All she knew was that when she woke, it was with a bang. Literally. There was a huge cracking noise, one that practically had her jumping off the bed, as someone suddenly appeared in her room.<p>

If it wasn't for the lingering lethargy, she would have tackled the intruder to the floor. As it stood, she was glad she didn't. Between the red hair and the fact that he was a dead ringer for one of the guys in the photo, it was obvious the guy in front of her was another Weasley brother.

He wasn't as tall as Bill or George, but he made up for it in the muscles department. He even looked like he had just come from a workout, covered in dirt and sweat and what looked like soot. He had a large leather bag slung over his shoulder, which hit the ground with a thud when he saw her.

"Merlin's saggy balls!" he exclaimed. "Who are _you_?"

"Buffy," she replied. "And you are obviously one of Bill's brothers. The dragon tamer, I'm guessing."

His eyebrows shot up in surprise. "Yeah, I'm Charlie," he said. "So you're a, er, 'friend' of Bill's then?"

Buffy flushed at his insinuation. "What? No! I mean, yes, I'm his friend - kind of - but I'm not his '_friend_'," she said, completely scandalized.

He took in the bed and her dishevelled appearance. "If you say so-"

Before he could finish, Bill burst into the room.

"Charlie! You arse! Why can't you say hello like a normal person instead of Apparating right to your room?"

Charlie was nonplussed. "It's your own bloody fault. You're the one who wrote to me about a dragon, remember? I came here as soon as I could, which just happened to be after my double shift when I'm dead tired."

Bill winced. "I didn't think of that," he said sheepishly. "To be honest, I wasn't thinking much of anything at the time."

Charlie grinned as he glanced slyly over at Buffy. "I can see why. Next time, though, try not to forget the part where you have a pretty bird in my room when you owl, yeah? Especially when it involves transfiguring our beds into one large one, leaving me with nothing."

Buffy wasn't sure whether she should be flattered or insulted, or why birds were suddenly factoring into the conversation. Bill did, though, and jumped in to set his brother straight.

"It's not like that. She was with me when Greyback-"

"Hold on," Charlie interrupted, his jovial expression immediately turning serious. "Did you say Greyback? What's that about?"

Bill shook his head and gave his brother a good-natured slap on the back. "I don't know why everyone is complaining about me not being around. You're ten times worse. Yes, Buffy and I have been looking for Greyback, who is alive and well, I'm sorry to say. He attacked us near a dragon's den in Sweden. We only managed to escape when Buffy thought to wake the beast, buying us some time to portkey out of there. It wasn't without injury, though, which is why Buffy's here in our room. That's the long and the short of it, anyway."

Buffy suddenly found herself pinned by Charlie's stare as his interest in her was renewed, evidently seeing her as more than Bill's 'friend' now.

"You saw her?"

"Uh, if by 'her', you mean the great hulking dragon that nearly burnt us to a crisp, then yes," she replied.

"And it was your idea to wake her up?"

Wondering if he was going to go all PETA on her, Buffy nodded, her chin tilted a little defiantly as she did.

Instead of looking angry, however, Charlie got this gleam in his eye. She almost thought that he was going to plop down on the bed next to her. By the half-step he took towards her, she probably wasn't too far off. Before he got any closer, though, Bill put his arm out and stopped his brother in his tracks.

"No," he said firmly.

"But I-" Charlie began to protest, but he was cut off as someone else entered the room.

"Bill, Charlie, what are you two doing in here, bickering in front of this poor girl? You should be ashamed!" the woman said. "Out, the both of you! She needs her rest."

Bill gave his brother a victorious smirk. With a quick 'yes, Mum', he began ushering Charlie out the door.

Before he stepped through the door frame, though, Charlie stopped and looked back at Buffy with a thoughtful look.

"So you and Bill are really just friends?" he asked.

Buffy nodded.

Charlie grinned and gave her a wink. "Good to know," he managed to say, before he was hauled bodily from the door frame by Bill.

Then they were gone, and an awkward silence was left in their wake. At least, that was how it seemed to Buffy, face to face with Bill's mother, who had been less than pleased by Buffy's dramatic entrance into her home. Even now, she detected a hint of reservation in the woman's demeanor as they looked at one another.

Needing to fill the space with something, Buffy began talking.

"Hi, you must be Mrs. Weasley. I'm Buffy Summers. Thank you so much for your help. And for your hospitality. I'm sorry to just barge in on you like this, and I'm really sorry if I caused any problems. I know Bill's told you who I am, and I don't want to get you in trouble or anything."

She stopped and took a deep breath. She prepared to launch into another long ramble, but Mrs. Weasley cut her off at the pass.

"Aren't you sweet? It's no trouble at all. The Vampire Slayer part was a bit of a shock, but from what I understand, if it wasn't for you, Bill might not be here at all. Sectumsempra is a horrible curse, just horrible," she said, her eyes getting a little watery as she spoke. She took a deep breath before she continued. "Now, how about some food? Both you and Bill must be half-starved."

Buffy eagerly nodded. Now that Molly mentioned it, she was hungry.

A few moments later, she had a bowl of stew in front of her. It was delicious, and it had nothing to do with the fact that she had been living off of take out for the past year or surviving off of apples and cheese the last 48 hours. Mrs. Weasley was an incredible cook, plain and simple.

When she told her so, the older woman beamed back at her, some of her earlier standoffishness gone.

"It's one of Bill's favorites," she revealed. She waited a beat before casually asking, "So Bill tells me that you've hunted werewolves before? Is it common for Vampire Slayers?"

Buffy froze, the spoon halfway up to her mouth. She knew what Mrs. Weasley was getting at, and she didn't blame her at all; the opposite in fact.

Putting her spoon down, she looked the woman in the eye. "Maybe in the past with other slayers, but not for me, as long as they aren't attacking anyone. One of my closest friends in high school was a werewolf. He even dated my best friend."

Mrs. Weasley's face brightened for a moment. It quickly gave way to worry, however, as she began to wring her hands and glance at the door where Bill and Charlie had just exited. Because the woman obviously wasn't ready to put voice to her distress yet, Buffy resumed eating, knowing that it would come out sooner or later.

It turned out to be sooner. Barely two bites, fact.

"So, a pretty girl like you must have someone waiting back at home, someone who must be worried. Perhaps we could contact them and let them know you're safe?"

Buffy struggled to keep her face neutral. She wasn't sure if Mrs. Weasley was trying to see if she was single for one of her boys, or if she was hoping she was taken. She got the feeling it was the latter. Either way, it wasn't going to end well.

"Uh, no, thank you, Mrs. Weasley. It's just me and my sister, and I don't want to worry her with all this."

It oversimplified the situation, but she hoped it was enough to cut off any other questions about contacting people, especially her parents.

"Just you and…" Mrs. Weasley began. Then it hit her. "Oh. OH."

It was as if the last five minutes had never happened.

"Oh, you poor dear!" the woman exclaimed. "And please, call me Molly."

Then Mrs. Weasley - _Molly_ - was a flurry of activity. Buffy could only lay there as the woman bustled around her, fluffing her pillows and mothering her in a way she hadn't experienced since she had been hospitalized with the flu.

It touched Buffy, and at the same time, completely overwhelmed her. She was relieved when Molly finally left, falling back onto the pillows in exhaustion as soon as the door closed.

The Weasleys were an experience, that was for sure; and it wasn't over yet. By her count, she still had 3 brothers, 3 in-laws, a father, and a sister to go.

* * *

><p>Buffy sighed, luxuriating in the hot water. Bathing was way overdue, and she was going to enjoy every minute of it - especially since she had to work so hard for it.<p>

Between Molly and Angelina, they were barely letting her lift a finger. It took all her powers of persuasion to convince them that she wasn't going to drown in the tub. Even then, Bill had to run some interference between her and his mother, for which she was eternally grateful.

With another blissful sigh, Buffy sank down into the water, her mind drifting to the previous night. For her, the main takeaway was that she needed a crash course in magic; the kinds of spells she was up against, what they did, and how she could safely dispel them. She would need Bill's help to do it, too.

It was going to be an awkward conversation, to say the least. She had been both dismissive and disparaging with Bill about his magic. It actually wasn't all bad, though. She could see that now. Heck, not only had it saved her bacon, but it did little things, too, like giving her clean clothes to wear that were her exact size.

It was also something she couldn't put off. Greyback was still out there. Not to mention the longer she took, the greater the risk one of the Weasley women would break down the door to make sure she was okay.

Reluctantly, Buffy pulled herself out of the tub. After drying herself off, making sure to pat carefully around her cuts, she quickly dressed in the shorts and shirt she had been wearing. Seeing no hair dryer, she simply gave her hair a good towel drying and left it at that.

As she exited the bathroom, she heard voices from the stairwell below.

"Bill, you need to eat something. You've lost nearly a stone since I last saw you."

"I will, Mum. I promise," came his immediate reply.

Buffy smirked. She could tell by Bill's tone that he was just placating his mother. She began to walk away from the stairwell when she heard her name.

"Buffy… she's a sweet girl, isn't she? Absolutely lovely," Molly said.

"Er, I suppose."

Buffy should've walked away. She didn't really care where this conversation was going - and yet she found herself creeping down the stairs for a closer listen.

"I can see you care about her, but…" his mother said hesitantly. "Well, a Vampire Slayer leads such a dangerous life. I've already lost Fred, and Charlie insists on working at that infernal dragon reserve. If you were to-"

"Mum, stop," Bill interrupted. "It's not like that between us. Buffy would probably prefer a garden gnome over me."

"What? Why wouldn't she like you?" Molly asked, obviously offended. "You're handsome and smart and brave. A girl would be a fool not to see what you have to offer!"

Bill laughed. "Well, which is it, Mum? Do you want Buffy to fall for my supposedly irresistible charm or stay far away while I wrap myself in Shielding Spells?"

"You know what I mean."

"Yes, I do. But as I said, it's a moot point. Besides, I wasn't made for relationships, not anymore."

"Oh pish," Molly scoffed. "You're letting that toxic woman into your head. Look at Remus and Tonks! They were very much in love, and she had no issue with his… with his…"

"With his what?" Bill asked quietly.

His mother sighed. "Oh, Bill, you know what I mean."

"Just leave it, Mum."

By Molly's grumbling, she wasn't going to leave it there, but Buffy had heard enough. It was definitely the kind of conversation she didn't want to be caught eavesdropping on, and with the way Weasleys seemed to come out of the woodwork, she was already taking her chances.

As quietly as she could, she crept back up the stairs. Just as she made it to the landing, however, her luck ran out, as she found herself face to face with a girl who, from where Buffy was standing, was all hair and pregnant belly.

"It's a bit much to take, isn't it?"

Buffy hesitated. "You could say that."

The other girl smiled sympathetically. "I was raised as an only child, so I know they can be a little overwhelming. Of course, I wouldn't trade them for all the world. And they all mean well," she said.

Buffy nodded. "They do," she said, because despite everything, the family was starting to grow on her. They were good people and surprisingly easy to talk to. Then, realizing she had no idea who she was talking to, she stuck out her hand. "I'm Buffy, by the way. Buffy Summers."

"Oh, where are my manners? Hermione Granger-Weasley. It's so nice to finally meet you. I'm only sorry I haven't been by before," she said as she clasped Buffy's hand in a firm handshake.

Buffy eyed Hermione's enormous belly. "I'm sure you've had other things on your mind."

To her surprise, Hermione laughed. "What? No, not that! I've been busy researching what on earth happened last night, and well, I have a theory. Bill told me what you said. It does appear as though Greyback's spell was absorbed by your sword, worked its way through you, and then exited through Bill's wand."

Buffy nodded. That pretty much summed it up.

But Hermione was shaking her head. "A few things don't add up, however. If you were simply a conduit, the magic should have no effect on you. So why did it take such a toll? And why was the resulting magic exponentially larger than what was absorbed?" she asked.

Knowing a rhetorical question when she heard one, Buffy stayed silent, curious where she was going with this.

Sure enough, Hermione continued speaking without even taking a breath. "I believe it's because you're not just a conduit. You are a living human being, one who, from what I've read, is imbued with a mystical essence of your own. As such, to keep with the electricity analogy, you are more like a conductor, or more specifically, a coil."

It was here that she finally stopped, looking at Buffy as she tried to gauge her reaction.

All she got was confusion. Buffy kind of understood what she was saying, and she really appreciated the way Hermione was trying to explain in non-magical terms, but she wasn't an electrician, an engineer, or even a handy person around the house, so the nuance was lost on her.

Hermione recognized this and rushed to explain.

"Think of an extension cord. The casing around it is the conduit. The wire inside is the conductor, carrying the electric charge within it. A coil is a type of conductor, but it takes it one step further. As the electricity moves around every turn, it builds its own field, creating higher voltages and higher currents than are being fed into it. I believe the same happened to you. As the magic wended its way around you, it fed off your own magical core and built its strength, resulting in a much higher expulsion of magic than what was absorbed."

"Okay," Buffy said slowly, as she took this in. "Say you're right. It's all conduit, conductor, tomato, tomahto, right?"

Hermione bit her lip. "I wish it were that simple. You see, conductors can only carry so much. If they're overloaded, they can burn out."

"Burn out?" Buffy exclaimed, not liking the sound of that at all. "You mean it could kill me?"

"Perhaps," Hermione replied. "Or it could simply drain your mystical energy. I think that's why you're so tired now. Your powers are so closely linked to your physiology, it would make sense that one would affect the other."

Buffy wanted to deny it all; she really did. But then she looked down at her arm, at the cuts that still hadn't completely healed.

She hadn't noticed any problems healing during the Enjoining Spell, but she also hadn't been looking. She definitely had been tired. Since then, a lot had happened - like Glory's portal, her subsequent resurrection, and Winnie.

Then there was her strength. She had felt weak since she had arrived there. That didn't mean something was wrong, but she had also been practically bedridden for the last 24 hours, with no chances to test her strength; because as the Cruciamentum showed her, it wasn't something she would notice right away.

Dammit. Hermione could be completely wrong. But what if she wasn't?

After all, it sounded a lot like what happened to Willow, or what they had assumed happened. And she still hadn't recovered from it. They didn't know if she ever would.

"It's only temporary, right? These effects?" she asked, trying to keep her voice as calm as she could.

Hermione shrugged her shoulders, her frustration visible. "I simply don't know. This is rather unprecedented. For us, it's impossible to 'run out' of magic. It is within us, always. My theory isn't perfect, either, particularly without seeing your sword. Still, in any case, I would limit the amount of magic you take in, just to be safe. I also wouldn't attempt something that requires magic over a prolonged period of time. That will almost certainly drain your energy, at least until the spell is ended and perhaps longer."

Prolonged spells could drain her energy…

Buffy's heart dropped as she realized the implications of Hermione's advice.

The Activation Spell wasn't a one shot deal. It would continually activate new Potentials as soon as they hit sixteen; it was doing that even before Buffy had left. That meant the spell was still active. If what Hermione said was true, it was sustaining itself on Willow's powers, which meant she might not get her magic back ever again - unless the spell was broken. And if Hermione thought of this possibility, chances were Willow had, too.

Son of a _bitch_.

* * *

><p>AN: I generally try to be judicious in my cliffhangers. I realize in this story, however, I tend to be jumping from ledge to ledge. It's something I'm aware of and trying to remedy. Until then, I can only hope it's exciting and not frustrating... Please?


	10. Bad Moon Rising

Disclaimer: The story of the White Doe is not mine. It is from Tales of the Slayer by Christopher Golden. The Roanoke-Grenville Accord is my take on the potential fallout from this story, if it were to happen in the HP universe.

* * *

><p>As Bill watched his mother walk off in a huff into the living room, he felt ill. It wasn't because she was upset, or even because of her meddling. Those he could handle; he'd had years of practice, after all. It was because he had a nagging suspicion Buffy had heard the entire affair.<p>

All in all, it was fairly humiliating.

When he heard Buffy come thundering down the stairs a moment later, he prepared himself for an intensely awkward moment. He only hoped she would be annoyed or amused; anything really, as long as it wasn't pity.

What he got was barely a glance, her gaze sweeping the kitchen as she searched for something.

"I need to use your phone… you do have a phone, right?" she asked.

Not at all what he was expecting, Bill was momentarily taken aback. Before he could sort out what she was asking, Hermione came padding down the stairs.

"No, we don't," she replied, slightly out of breath. "None in working order, at any rate. We use owls to communicate."

Buffy cringed. "And by owl you mean…"

Hermione smiled at her sympathetically. "Exactly how it sounds. We write a letter on a piece of parchment, which the owl then delivers."

"I'm pretty sure Willow will freak if an owl shows up at her door," Buffy muttered as she turned to Bill. "You probably can't Abracadabra me there, either, can you?"

Bill had to do his damnedest not to laugh at the look of mortification on Hermione's face as she realized what Buffy was referring to and the way she had mangled it - though imagining how his reaction would be received by both women helped considerably.

"Sorry," he said. "It's not advisable to Apparate to a place you've never been. Besides, Trans-Atlantic Apparition is a bit out of my range."

Buffy shook her head. "Actually, I wouldn't need to ocean hop. Willow is here in Devon, in a coven of Wiccans actually," she explained.

"Devon?" Bill said. "That actually isn't too far-"

"Did you say the Devon coven?" his mother asked as she walked into the kitchen, apparently dropping all pretense of minding her own business. "Arthur, isn't Arabella Figg's sister there?"

A moment later, Bill's father joined them in the kitchen. He gave Buffy a warm smile. "Hullo there, I'm Arthur Weasley. Welcome to the Burrow," he said. "Yes, dear, I believe she is, though I hear the head of the coven is a stern one who's not overly fond of us wand-bearing folk. At any rate, Apparition is most definitely out of the question, as the entire property is probably heavily warded against it; the surrounding land, too. If Maris Figg is there, there's a chance she's connected to the Floo network, but any kind of unexpected magic could be dangerous, particularly since it is getting on in the day."

Bill's mother nodded in agreement; a bit too eagerly, in his mind. "Perhaps it would be best to write to the head of the coven and petition to either Floo or fly there first thing in the morning?"

"Floo or fly- nevermind. I'll deal with that later," Buffy muttered.

She paused then, chewing her lip as she weighed her options. Bill could practically see the argument she was having with herself. It was obvious she needed to talk to her friend. On the other hand, he could imagine she would be reluctant to put herself through another bout of magic when she hadn't completely healed from the last. His father was right, too. It was already past 9; late for an unannounced visit.

Whatever the reason, Buffy quickly made up her mind.

"Do you have a pen and piece of paper I could use?"

Beaming, Bill's mother retrieved some parchment, a quill, and a pot of ink and put them on the kitchen table.

The look on Buffy's face was priceless. Still, to her credit, she didn't say a single thing. She simply sat down and grabbed hold of the quill and ink pot with a determined look in her eye.

When she accidentally snapped the quill in half, she apologized and asked for another. The second time it happened, her face grew grim and her apology was much more subdued. The third time, her expression turned downright wrathful as she glared at the quill, saying nothing but a terse 'thank you' as a new quill was given to her. Soon after, Bill's family wisely retreated into the living room.

Four broken quills and three shredded parchments later, she finally gave up, throwing her hands up in the air in frustration.

Knowing this was his moment, Bill cleared his throat. "Here, let me have a go at it," he offered. Then, because opportunities like this were far and few between, he added, "You know, before you singlehandedly cause a quill shortage in England."

Though she glared mightily at him, she pushed the parchment and quill over toward him. Grinning, Bill grabbed the chair closest to him - one that also happened to be healthy distance away from her - and began to compose a letter.

He only got as far as the salutation when he realized he hadn't the slightest idea what he was requesting.

In the woods, he and Buffy had been thrown together by circumstance, working with one another out of sheer necessity. Now, however, the situation had changed. They could go their separate ways - or make a conscious choice to work together. Either way, a decision needed to be made.

Because there was no time like the present, Bill put the quill down and got right to it.

"Where do we go from here? Do 'we' go anywhere at all?" he asked, gesturing between the two of them.

Flustered, Buffy began to examine the table intently. "I'm not sure," she hedged. "I was kinda taking it one step at a time."

A ringing endorsement it was not. Though his pride demanded he not put himself out there any further, Bill didn't operate that way. It was time to lay his cards on the table.

"Fair enough," he replied. "I know we didn't get off to the best start, and the coven has bugger all to do with me. That being said, Greyback is still out there, and I don't think it's wise for us to split-"

Buffy held up her hand, effectively cutting him off.

"This may be hard to believe, but it's not that I don't trust you, not anymore. I was actually going to ask you for a Magic for Dummies session," she admitted. She took a deep breath and looked him steadily in the eye. "It's just… I'm not the safest person to be around. I never have been, and I never will be."

She didn't say it in a pitying way, nor in a way that sugarcoated the cold, hard truth. He gave her the courtesy of replying in kind - though inwardly he was groaning, as she all but confirmed she had overheard his conversation with his mother.

"If you hadn't noticed, neither am I, particularly with Greyback on the loose."

She said nothing at first, looking down at the table once again. When she finally looked up, however, her eyes were glinting with humor.

"You just don't want to miss out on the colossal beatdown I'm going to give him."

Bill grinned. "There's that, too."

She laughed at that. "Okay, round two of Bill and Buffy's excellent adventure then," she agreed. "But you can be the one to break it to your mom."

Bill couldn't argue with that. Besides, they both knew full well that his mother had heard every word.

The matter resolved, he picked up the quill. A few moments later, the letter was ready to go. He rolled up the parchment and made for the back door, making sure to grab an owl treat on the way.

He was surprised to find Buffy right behind him.

"First official team business?" she said. Though she looked almost indifferent as she spoke, her eyes darted furtively to the living room.

Bill wasn't fooled. He recognized the situation for what it was. It was a prison break.

They both knew that his mother and Angelina would object to her going outside, particularly at this late hour with Buffy clad only in a pajama set and nothing on her feet. At that precise moment, however, they weren't there to stop her; Angelina had left with George soon after Buffy went to take her bath to check on their children and his mother was in living room.

That left Bill, and he was not going to get in her way for all the world. She was probably going a little stir crazy being cooped up inside the house as well, especially from all the mollycoddling. He knew he would be. She also wasn't the most patient person in the world, so having to wait to see her friend must have been akin to torture.

Bill leaned down toward her ear to make sure his mother wouldn't hear. "I won't tell if you won't."

Her relief was palpable. She looked up and practically beamed at him. Together, they snuck out of the house like two truant school children, with Bill casting charms to illuminate their path as they walked, until they reached the shed where the owls generally liked to perch - or owl, as it turned out.

Bill swallowed his disappointment. Though he liked Pigwidgeon, the little owl would not be his first choice. But he would have to do; poor old Errol was no longer around, and there were no others in sight.

Holding out the owl treat, Bill called him down. Instead of flying to him, however, Pig fluttered around Buffy, obviously excited by the chance to show off in front of the stranger. And impress, he did, darting around Buffy as he performed a variety of aerial tricks.

The little prat didn't stop until he drew a laugh from her. Only then, having deemed her admiration sufficient, did he land on the lower edge of the roof.

"Are you done showing off?" Bill asked dryly.

Pig clicked his beak in response.

Shaking his head, Bill stepped forward and attached the letter to Pig's leg. "This is for the head of the Devon Coven," he said, as he handed over the treat.

Pig quickly snapped it up, and with another click of his beak, flew into the night sky - never once acknowledging the way he listed to the side from the weight of the parchment. Bill swore the little bird thought he was an eagle.

Next to him, Buffy stifled her laughter. "So that little fluffball will really deliver the message?"

"And do a fair bit of preening afterward," Bill admitted.

"Well, your way has ridiculous amounts of cuteness on its side," she said. "But hello, inefficiency. A phone call or email would be so much faster."

Bill shrugged. He wasn't going to argue, particularly since he had no experience with either. Instead, he started to head back to the house. After the first few steps, however, he got the distinct impression that Buffy wasn't quite ready to go back yet; impulsively he decided to take a more circuitous route back.

Almost immediately, he regretted his decision.

On the way down to the shed, he had managed to keep Buffy on his right. Now on the way back, however, she insisted on walking on his left, where his scars were on full display. She never said anything outright; she simply outmaneuvered him whenever he tried to fix it until he finally gave up altogether. Instead, he refocused his energy, pointing out various landmarks around the Burrow and the childhood stories associated with them along the way.

Though she seemed to enjoy the tales, particularly the kinds of trouble he and his brothers used to get into, her expression grew increasingly pensive as they drew closer to the back door until finally she stopped altogether.

"Did Hermione tell you about her theory?" she quietly asked.

Bill nodded. "To be honest, I'm not sure what to make of it. It seems sound, and Hermione is rarely wrong, but there are just so many unknowns."

Buffy bit her lip. "I need to know if she's right, though. Could I stay out here for a little while?" she asked.

"Of course," Bill replied. Then he paused. "I'll keep the hounds at bay inside for you as well."

This made Buffy grin. "Your mother is very sweet. It's been awhile since someone has taken care of me like that. It's… really nice. A little overwhelming in the way that I need to take a breather every now and then, but really nice."

It struck Bill how sad that was, that she didn't have anyone like that, and how easy it was to take his own family for granted. It was not the time to mull it over, though, not when she was standing less than an arm's length away.

"So I'll leave you to it, then," he said, gesturing to the garden around him.

He fully intended to leave, but as he looked around, he realized that there was nothing there but overgrown grass; not at all ideal for what she probably wanted to do. Frowning, he pulled out his wand and cleared out an area for her before he started to go.

He turned back when she called his name.

"Bill?" she said. "I… thank you."

It was said honestly and sincerely. Bill got the distinct impression that it was for more than a few illumination charms, too. Before he could respond, however, she turned away from him.

* * *

><p>Bill watched Buffy through the kitchen window as she went through a series of complicated movements, ones that clearly required strength, stamina, and flexibility. He felt like a bit of a creep watching her, but honestly, she had been out there for a good thirty minutes and he was getting worried, particularly since the look on her face told him it wasn't going well.<p>

"I still can't believe that little bit of a thing is a Vampire Slayer," Charlie said from behind him.

Something in his brother's tone made Bill look at him. Charlie barely noticed; his eyes were glued on Buffy.

Bill could admit it. He didn't like the way his brother was looking at her. Bill had worked so hard to gain her trust; he didn't want it ruined because Charlie couldn't keep his leering to a minimum.

There was no excuse for the growl that emanated from him, however.

Charlie gave a start of surprise, taking half a step back in the process. In the other room, he heard his parents gasp.

"I'm so sorry," Bill said hoarsely, completely mortified.

Charlie quickly shook it off, returning to his normal cheerful self. "I know you're taking her well being very seriously, but this big brother routine is a bit much, don't you think?"

"Big-" Bill spluttered, but Charlie was already sauntering toward the stairs until he was out of sight.

Bill scowled. If he hadn't been in a foul mood before, he was certainly in one now, and he struggled to get ahold of his temper.

It was made much easier a few minutes later when Harry Potter stepped out of the Floo. The poor bastard had the most pitiful expression on his face, it was next to impossible to stay angry.

"Bill, I don't know what else I can say, except I'm sorry," Harry said.

Bill waved him off. "There's been enough of that. Let's just figure out how to catch the bastard, eh?"

Harry nodded. "It's the least I can do," he said with a grim smile. "I've already begun monitoring all unusual reports, both with the Wizarding and Muggle worlds. I'll also see what I can do within the Ministry, but I'm afraid that won't be much, not without any kind of proof that he's back. You're sure you don't have anything I could use?"

"Aside from Greyback attacking me multiple times?" Bill retorted, admittedly a bit petulantly. He knew it wasn't Harry's fault, though, so he added in a much calmer tones, "No, there's nothing, nothing that the Ministry would accept at least. Not even a sighting for the a Pensieve."

Harry clapped a hand on Bill's shoulder. "Don't worry, mate. Greyback can't maintain this level of secrecy for long. It's not in his nature," he said. He looked out that window. "Is that her? The Vampire Slayer? I'd love to meet her, but it's probably best I don't. Officially, I don't know she's even here. Oh, and look, she's heading in. I'll take that as my cue to leave. I'll be in touch, though."

Harry quickly walked over to the Floo and threw a pinch of powder into the fireplace. He disappeared just as Buffy walked into the house. She looked completely knackered as she collapsed in one of the kitchen's chairs.

Bill's mother was in the kitchen an instant later. By the way she moved, a veritable whirlwind between the stove and the pantry, he could only imagine that she had waited for this moment, carefully planning what she would do the moment Buffy returned to the house. Faster than Bill could blink, his mother had a glass of pumpkin juice and some biscuits ready, which Buffy gratefully accepted.

Bill went to sit next to her, but before he could, Hermione swooped in.

"Hi, Buffy, I know it's late, but… I need to talk to you. There are rumors running around the Ministry that there are now multiple slayers in existence," she said.

Bill gave a start at this bit of information. As far as he knew, there was only ever one active Slayer at a time. By the way his mother dropped the spoon she was levitating, he knew that was what she had thought, too.

Buffy obviously was caught off guard as well. Whiter than a ghost, she looked ready to bolt.

Realizing her potential blunder, Hermione frantically tried to salvage the situation.

"It's just a rumor, mind you, one that I feel absolutely no obligation to substantiate, the circumstances being what they are. I only meant, that is to say… oh dear," she fretted. Then she stopped and took a deep breath. "Regardless of what the situation is or isn't, it has brought the Accord between us to my attention-"

"The what?" Buffy interrupted.

If Hermione was surprised, she didn't show it. "The Roanoke-Grenville Accord of 1586. Nasty business that was. Essentially, a wizard in the Roanoke colony fell madly in love with a slayer and turned her into a white doe when she didn't return his feelings. This infuriated the Watcher's Council, understandably. In order to prevent a war, the Accord was struck, making it forbidden for any wizard to perform magic on a slayer," she explained. "Personally, I believe the Ministry jumped at the opportunity. They prefer things to be black and white, and they simply do not know how to handle anyone who is magical in their own right yet not a witch or wizard, the arrogant old goats."

Bill saw the way Buffy glanced at him out of the corner of her eye but said nothing as Hermione continued on.

"One of the first things I'd like to do after my leave is work on re-establishing Wizard/Slayer relations," she said, and though this elicited another reaction from his mother, she resolutely ignored it. "It's absolute rubbish that we can no longer interact all because of one unscrupulous and rather selfish man. That is, if it's something you and yours would be interested in exploring…"

"We might," Buffy said cautiously. Then she smiled. "As long as you're at the table when we do."

Hermione beamed back at her. "Excellent!" she exclaimed. Then, perhaps because she felt she and Buffy were on good terms or perhaps because she simply couldn't stop herself, she added, "I was also hoping I might be able to look at your sword. You don't even have to move. I can retrieve it from your room myself and take it-"

"No," Buffy cut in, rather forcefully.

Hermione's face fell. "Oh, of course. I understand."

Buffy shook her head. "No, you don't," she insisted, before slapping her hand to her forehead. "Apparently, it's my turn to get whacked with the tact stick. Yes, you can look at it, but I don't want anyone else to touch it, especially you. We have no idea what it could do, and I don't want you getting hurt."

Before anyone could object, she pushed herself to her feet and went upstairs. She was back a few moments later with her sword, which she gently laid on the kitchen table.

Bill had never seen a pregnant woman move so quickly. Hermione was there in front of the sword before he could blink, oohing and aahing over the design and workmanship.

"Look at the runes… I've got to copy them down… and a _lightning bolt_ on the other side… what are the chances… oh my…"

"Her name's Winnie," Buffy explained. Then she grimaced. "Well, actually it's not. That's what I call her. Willow said it's Car… Car winches? Car window? That's not right, but Carwinnie just sounds wrong-"

"Do you mean _Carnwennan_," Hermione interrupted, her face noticeably paler.

Buffy brightened. "Yep, that's it! And geez, is there anything you guys don't know..."

She trailed off when she noticed Hermione was practically hyperventilating. Bill, Buffy, and Mrs. Weasley all made a motion toward her when she waved them off.

"This is incredible," she breathed. "Carnwennan was given to King Arthur, possibly by Merlin _himself_, which he used to kill the Black Hag."

Bill looked at the sword in awe, and he saw his mother do the same.

"That's of the good, right? You guys are big on Merlin and not on hags?" Buffy asked, unsure of their reactions.

Bill laughed incredulously. "Yes, it's a very good thing. Incredible, in fact. Imagine, a relic of Merlin's, here…" he marveled. "You're a tough one to keep up with."

Buffy shrugged. "You haven't done too bad a job."

Like all her compliments to him were, it was said begrudgingly, and Bill took it in the spirit in which it was meant.

His mother and Hermione did not. They quite obviously exchanged looks with one another, though neither one of them dared look at him. The only saving grace was that Buffy had no idea what she had walked into. Still Bill felt incredibly uncomfortable.

"I, ah, I need to take care of something. I'll be back in a bit," he announced before he practically sprinted from the room.

Bill spent a good fifteen minutes getting cleaned up. During that time, he heard his parents go to bed, for which he was glad. The past 24 hours had taken a toll on everyone, and it was only just beginning.

When he was done, he went back downstairs to join the girls.

Apparently, Charlie had the same idea. Bill found him sitting on the sofa in the living room next to Buffy, as the two of them pored over a map of Sweden, no doubt trying to triangulate where they - and the dragon - had been.

Bill's initial reaction was to join them, but he immediately squashed that impulse. He wasn't needed there. From what he could hear, Buffy was providing details about the layout of the forest he didn't remember.

Charlie had been right. He was being ridiculously overprotective, and he had no right to be. Buffy was a big girl, one who could take care of herself and then some. And she didn't look put off by Charlie's attention in the slightest.

Needing something to do, he grabbed a biscuit off the counter and sat down next to Hermione, who was still at the kitchen table studying the sword. In addition, she now had an armada of books around her, and she was currently flipping furiously through the pages of one particularly large text.

"Find anything useful?" he asked between bites.

Hermione shook her head. "Not particularly."

Since it was obvious she wanted to continue with her research, Bill let her be and focused on his food. Just as he was taking the last few bites, a flutter of movement just outside the window caught his eye.

It was an owl; not one of theirs, but a gorgeous eagle owl, looking at Hermione expectantly.

Not wanting to interrupt her, Bill quickly went outside, grabbing a treat for the bird on the way. He found the owl sitting on a tree branch a few meters from the house, a letter attached to its leg.

Bill untied the letter and held out a treat to the owl. The little bugger ignored it, however, and let out a loud hoot, one that sounded almost disdainful, before it flew away without so much as a backward glance.

Scowling, Bill returned to the house and handed the letter to Hermione.

"Courtesy of the most obnoxious owl ever," he said.

Still immersed in her book, she grabbed the letter and shoved it in her pocket without a single glance. "Work related, no doubt," she said distractedly.

"They're still contacting you, even though you're on leave?" Bill asked in surprise.

"Yes, I prefer it actually," she replied. Then she froze and looked up. "Though I'd appreciate it if you didn't mention it to Ron when he comes home from the joke shop tonight?"

Because she was doing him an enormous favor, Bill agreed, albeit a little reluctantly. "Alright. Is this a problem?" he asked cautiously.

Hermione made a face. "For him. He's already having difficulty accepting the fact that I have no plans to quit my job and stay home after the baby is born. I simply cannot do that, though. I've been bored out of mind just these past few months."

Bill was surprised. He knew his mother's thoughts on the subject, but he had no idea that Ron shared them as well. Personally, Bill agreed with Hermione. Someone like her would go bonkers staying at home.

Before he could think of what to say - something that wouldn't put him in the middle - Buffy let out a particularly large laugh.

Hermione seized the opportunity to change the subject. "They seem to be getting on well enough," she commented.

Bill grunted by way of reply and sat back down. Because he could see the questions brewing in his sister-in-law's mind, he cut her off at the pass the best way he knew how.

"Can I help at all? It's been awhile since I've tried my hand at runes, but I'm not too shabby at cross-referencing and the like."

Just as he suspected, Hermione eagerly accepted his help. Soon they both were absorbed in the tomes around them, so much so that Bill only half heard Buffy and Charlie's conversation; such as when he complimented her on her quick thinking around the dragon, or when she expressed her admiration in his ability to work with the beasts on a daily basis, or when he then in turn invited her to visit the dragon reserve.

And he got no satisfaction whatsoever when he interrupted them a short while later upon Pig's return, all but bringing Charlie and Buffy's little study group to a screeching halt.

* * *

><p>Everyone went to bed soon after the letter arrived, which granted Buffy and him entry to the coven first thing in the morning. Still, sleep eluded Bill that night; he tossed and turned in his bed until he finally gave up and went downstairs into the kitchen.<p>

Something Harry had said stuck in his mind. It wasn't in Greyback's nature to show restraint of any kind. Yet, for as much trouble as he had caused, the werewolf hadn't shown himself once. What's more, his attacks had been methodical and well orchestrated.

It made Greyback infinitely more dangerous and difficult to predict. It also made Bill wonder what the bastard's plan could be, that he would curb his natural instincts to the point where it was probably painful, only finding release in moments like his savagery with the Graphorn.

It was unsettling, to say the least.

Feeling more than a little frustration, Bill went to get a glass of water. As he stood over the sink, he glanced out the little window there and received a shock.

In the recent excitement, the days and nights had blurred and he had foolishly lost track of the moon, and it had not yet risen when he and Buffy had been out earlier in evening. Now, however, there was no ignoring it; for though it wasn't quite full, it would be in just a handful of days.

Not only did it explain some of the uneasiness he had been feeling lately, but it also gave him his first real clue on what was to come.

Greyback wouldn't be able to curtail his instincts under the full moon. More importantly, Bill was willing to bet he had no intention of trying.

"Bill?"

Startled, Bill turned to see Hermione standing in the doorway.

"What are you doing awake?" he asked.

Hermione sighed. "Taking my one hundredth trip to the loo, thank you very much. I saw the light on down here and thought it might be you."

Though he needed to talk to his family about this all, it could wait until morning, so he simply shrugged his shoulder and said, "Can't sleep."

Hermione padded over to him. "I'm sure you have a lot on your mind," she replied. "I'm glad that you're up, though. I wanted to give you something before you left tomorrow."

She produced a small package wrapped in brown paper. Curious, Bill took it from her and opened it. He let out a laugh when he saw the book inside.

It was entitled _American Muggle 2: A Vexing and Perplexing Mystery_.

"I got it soon after we talked the last time," she confessed. "Of course, I realized within five minutes of speaking with Buffy that it's complete rubbish."

Bill grinned. "I don't know whether the fault lies with the book, or whether Buffy simply defies expectations."

"She does seem to do that, in a variety of ways," Hermione replied slyly. Before Bill could object to her implication, she was speaking again. "Anyway, though I realize it's essentially useless, I thought I'd still give it to you, if for nothing else but a bit of fun. It looks like we may need it in coming days."

Bill couldn't deny the truth in her statement; still, he didn't want to end the night on such a dire note.

"Thank you for the book," he said sincerely, ruffling the top of her head affectionately.

Hermione swatted his hand away with a scowl. "Please, all these pregnancy hormones are making my hair big enough as it is. I'm convinced I'll wake up one day and find owls nesting in it," she grumbled. She glared at Bill when he laughed. "Well, I know you have a big day tomorrow, so I'll leave you alone. Do try to get some sleep, though."

With that she walked back upstairs.

A smile still on his face, Bill put his glass away and headed for bed. As he turned to leave the kitchen, however, the moon caught his eye, a pale, cold reminder that the clock was ticking.

* * *

><p>AN: I don't usually do this but… Buffy/Bill pairing - yea or nay?


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